


Heat

by lachatblanche



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Erik is a Badass Nazi hunter, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance, Shaw Better Watch Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik follows close on the trail of Shaw, determined to seek revenge until one day he runs into Charles Xavier and he is forced to choose between his revenge and his new-found love. Based on the 1995 film 'Heat'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from the kink meme, based on the 1995 film 'Heat' starring Robert de Niro and Al Pacino.
> 
> Note: Occasional pieces of dialogue may have been appropriated from the film to be used in this fic. Any publications mentioned are not my own and belong to the authors.

 

‘Someone doesn’t like you very much,’ Emma observed casually as she cast her eyes over the warehouse in front of her. 

Or, to be precise, the _remains_ of the warehouse in front of her.

Shaw frowned as he too gazed about, his eyes lingering on the shattered bricks and bent pieces of metal that littered the ground. The walls of the warehouse seemed to have caved in, almost as if they had been crushed by a powerful fist. There it was, one of his safest and most secure warehouses in the country, crumpled up like a ball of paper and left for him to find. It was a complete outrage.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

While he couldn’t deny that he was irked that one of his warehouses had been treated like the rough draft of a trashy love letter, no one could ever say that Sebastian Shaw wasn’t an optimist. He could see potential where others only saw the blindingly obvious. He glanced fondly over at the beautiful woman at his side. Emma Frost was proof of his scouting talents, if there were any. He had found that men were decidedly more susceptible to telepathic manipulation when kept busy ogling her (admittedly magnificent) cleavage. 

Smiling to himself, Shaw looked back at the ruins in front of him. Whoever had done this to his warehouse _definitely_ had potential. A lot of it.

‘We need to find out who did this,’ he murmured to himself.

‘Perhaps the security cameras-’ Emma started but cut herself off when Shaw levelled an amused glance in her direction.

‘Cameras?’ his tone was almost mocking, making Emma scowl. ‘Whoever did this was sharp, and knew what he was doing. The cameras have probably been disabled. It’s a pretty thought, though. Never mind, my dear,’ he patted Emma’s arm condescendingly. ‘You can still check them if you want.’

The look Emma gave him was icy.

‘What makes you so sure that it was a “he” and not a “she”?’ she demanded, and Shaw was immediately glad that he had taken to wearing his telepath-proof helmet while around her, particularly when he raised an eyebrow at the idea that their mystery person could be a woman. ‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘What makes you so sure that it wasn’t a “ _they_ ”?’

That was a much better question, and Shaw’s brow lowered as he considered it.

‘It’s the feel of it,’ he said at last, almost as if to himself. ‘It feels … personal.’ He lapsed into thought for a moment before shaking himself and turning to face the rest of his cohorts. ‘Riptide,’ he said brusquely. ‘Look through any files the humans may have on unusual or inexplicable crimes. This can’t have been the first time this man has made an appearance and it is possible that they may have some sort of record of this man. I’m quite sure that he has made some strong previous …’ his eyes flicked to the crumpled walls of the warehouse. ‘… impressions.’

Riptide nodded but didn’t say anything. Which wasn’t unusual. 

‘Azazel,’ Shaw turned to face the devil-man. ‘I need you to find out if there’s anyone new in town. Particularly anyone who might have a grudge against me. Do whatever you have to do to make your contacts talk. It will do them good to remember why it is wise to fear the name Sebastian Shaw.’ 

He finally turned to Emma Frost, who was looking decidedly unimpressed; he forgave her for it as that was her default expression. ‘And you, my dear, do what you do best. Search the city for any traces of our new interloper. Try and see if there was anyone nearby at the time who may have witnessed anything unusual occurring. Oh,’ he couldn’t resist adding, ‘and don’t forget to check those security cameras. You never know, we might just get lucky.’

 

*

 

Erik Lehnsherr was hungry. It had been a while since he had last eaten, and huge expenditures of energy such as that morning’s performance with the warehouse tended to take a lot out of him. He sighed. While it had been supremely satisfying, he couldn’t say that his efforts had brought him any closer to his goal. Technically, the mission could not be considered a success. 

However, it _had_ been _very_ satisfying.

Catching sight of a small café up ahead of him, Erik quickened his steps, just as his stomach gave a low growl. He stepped through the door and gazed around cautiously. The café was a cosy, friendly little nook and the pleasant murmur of conversation drifted almost soothingly over him. Deeming the place satisfactory, he walked over to the counter. 

‘Coffee, please,’ he said gruffly, before picking out a sandwich and a pastry to go with it. The girl at the counter smiled at him as she took his order but he ignored her, choosing to note the café’s layout instead. He paid for his purchases almost absent-mindedly, before picking up his tray and moving towards the corner that he had selected as being the most defensible. It had the added bonus of being the quietest corner of the room, having only one other person there, and he had his head down and his nose in a book.

Settling himself down into the comfortable sofa, Erik took a sip of his coffee. Bliss. He then proceeded to nibble at his pastry, debating whether or not to save the sandwich for later. Chewing slowly, he idly cast his eyes around at the room, secretly appreciating the warm ambience. The place _was_ remarkably cosy and Erik had to unwillingly confess to feeling strangely secure here. Warily, with a distracted look at the man next to him, Erik loosened his coat and reached down to grasp at the small plastic bag at his feet. Reaching in, he pulled out the book he had purchased less than an hour ago from the bookshop two streets over. Taking another sip of his coffee, Erik hunched down in his seat and opened the book.

It was some twenty minutes before he was interrupted from his reading by the feeling of eyes boring into his back. He quickly glanced up just in time to see the man beside him jerk back slightly at the sudden movement, blinking his stunning blue eyes as if trying to regain his bearings. Erik studied him for a moment, taking in the man’s almost delicate wrists, his friendly blue eyes, the grey cardigan that was buttoned up over his chest. The man looked back at him with a bemused expression, but did not drop eye contact, which was an achievement in itself. Finally, the man ventured a hesitantly friendly smile, his lips crooking upwards. Erik stared at him for a moment more before letting out a small amused huff under his breath. Not deeming the man to be a threat to him, he returned to his book. 

Only to interrupted a moment later.

‘Good book?’ came a low, pleasant voice – and was that a British accent?

Erik glanced up at the man, who was looking at him in genuine curiosity.

‘It’s okay,’ he grunted, before pointedly going back to his book.

The other man wasn’t so easily dismissed, however. 

‘What are you reading?’

Erik took a deep breath.

‘A book. On metals,’ he said haltingly. He showed the man the book cover.

‘ _Carbon Based Magnetism: An Overview of the Magnetism of Metal Free Carbon-Based Compounds and Materials_ ,’ the man read, his eyebrows rising up on his forehead. ‘Sounds like heavy reading. Is it for business or pleasure?’

Erik frowned. He fixed the man with a penetrating stare.

‘Look,’ he said curtly, his eyebrows drawn low. ‘I’m sorry but is there actually a _reason_ that you are talking to me?’

The man’s eyes widened at the question and Erik watched with something close to fascination as a slow, dull flush made its way up from the man’s collar. 

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ the man said rather stiffly, unable to hide the expression of hurt on his face. He glanced away before continuing, focusing anywhere but Erik. ‘I was just trying to make conversation. I apologise if my attempts were unwanted, you can rest assured that I will not bother you again.’ With that he turned away and made to pick up his book.

Erik continued to stare at the man, and was surprised to find that a strange emotion – something suspiciously akin to guilt – was battering away at the self-imposed wall of solitude that he had built for himself. Astonishingly, his sentimentality won out over his hard-edged suspicion and before he knew it, he had moved up the sofa so that he was sitting nearer to the man, who looked up in surprise at the approach.

‘Look,’ Erik began uncomfortably. ‘I apologise. I didn’t mean to be rude just now. I just … I guess I wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to me.’

The man’s face seemed to have lit up from the moment that Erik had begun speaking and he appeared to forgive Erik his rudeness almost immediately; unlike Erik, he didn’t seem to be the type of man to hold a grudge.

‘I’m Charles,’ he beamed, holding his hand out to Erik. ‘Charles Xavier.’

Erik cautiously reached for the hand. Charles’s handshake was reassuringly firm and his hands were surprisingly soft. 

‘Erik,’ he replied, unsure as to why he was giving his real name. ‘Erik Lehnsherr.’

‘Good to meet you, Erik,’ Charles said, still with that sunny-bright smile on his face. Erik could tell that this was his normal state of being: pleasantly flushed, smiling and good-humoured. The cardigans were probably also a normal thing for him. The book too. And – Erik glanced down at the man’s table – yes, there it was, a nice pot of tea on the table. Erik couldn’t help smiling at that. Charles seemed to notice.

‘Ah,’ he said, his eyes twinkling merrily. ‘I know exactly what you are thinking. You are thinking that I look rather like a pensioner inhabiting the body of a young man, am I right? No, no, don’t deny it – I know it’s true. My sister said the exact same thing before I walked out of the door this morning. Young people these days just don’t seem to appreciate the advantages of a well made cardigan.’ He let out a melodramatic sigh.

‘I admit,’ Erik said after a moment, his initial bemusement changing into just plain amusement. ‘That I was thinking that you looked rather good for an eighty-year-old.’

That surprised a startled burst of laughter out of Charles, who looked at Erik in delight and then proceeded to spend the next quarter of an hour telling Erik almost everything there was to know about himself. It turned out that he was a professor, which went some way in explaining his old-fashioned attire. He claimed to be a professor of genetics; though, Charles explained, he was between teaching posts at the moment, his family’s money enabling him to take his time and be fussy about selecting a prospective university to teach at.

Clearly, Charles found it very easy to talk about himself. He was perhaps one of the most friendly and unthinkingly trusting men that Erik had ever met. It was obvious that nothing had ever happened to him to dispel him of that habit. Strangely, Erik didn’t begrudge him this, as he normally would with anyone else; on the contrary, it brought out an alien feeling of protectiveness in him when he watched over the young man.

‘So,’ Charles said eventually, chuckling over the end of one of his anecdotes. ‘There you have it – that is me in a nutshell. You know, I really _must_ stop revealing my entire life history to strangers, Raven will be ever so cross with me. My sister, you know,’ he explained, before smiling self-deprecatingly. ‘Sorry to have bored you, Erik, I’m sure that you have little interest in my life story.’

‘Not at all,’ Erik said with a smile – a _genuine_ smile. Normally he wouldn’t have the patience to deal with such mundane details but Charles had somehow managed to make his normal, unexciting life seem almost … desirable. Erik sighed. He must be getting old.

‘You never told me what you did,’ Charles was saying. ‘If you were reading that book for business or pleasure.’

Erik didn’t hesitate.

‘Salesman,’ he said smoothly, and when Charles’s eyebrow rose, he added. ‘Magnets. And as for whether I’m reading for business or pleasure, I must admit that it is a bit of both.’

‘I see,’ Charles said, his eyes sparkling. ‘Is business good?’

‘It’s getting there. There’s a lot of interest in the practical applications of magnetism. I myself am personally invested in the subject. Being in the business, so to speak.’

‘I see,’ Charles said slowly. ‘Do you enjoy it?’ he asked suddenly.

Erik paused at that.

‘It – it is satisfying,’ he said at last. ‘And it has its enjoyable moments, yes.’

‘Are you happy, doing what you do?’ Charles asked, his eyes searching Erik’s keenly.

Erik felt his defences start to rise at the questions but he forcibly pushed them down.

‘To be honest,’ he said, a small frown on his face. ‘I don’t think I have ever really considered that question. I can’t say I know.’ He didn’t clarify that he meant that he didn’t actually know what happiness _felt_ like, as opposed to the question of whether he was happy or not. ‘What about you? Are you happy, doing what you do?’

Charles stared down at the coffee table thoughtfully. 

‘I think so,’ he said at last. He too was frowning. ‘I mean, I enjoy genetics, and I have always wanted to teach … but I don’t know. Sometimes I think – I think that there must be more, you know? Something more that I can do. To help people, that is.’ He gave a nervous laugh. ‘My sister Raven says that I have a bit of a superhero complex – wanting to save the world, and all that.’ He gave Erik a wry look. ‘And you know what? Sometimes I even think she’s right.’

Erik wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. His main aspiration in life had always been to achieve his revenge. Sure, saving the world from destruction at the psychotic hands of Sebastian Shaw was somewhere in his mind as part of the motive behind his actions, but he wasn’t so blinded and lacking in self-awareness so as to consider himself selfless. No, his hunt for Shaw was borne out of a lust for revenge, and was first and foremost an act of selfishness. Any other justifications for his desire to end Shaw were erroneous.

‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting to save the world,’ Erik found himself saying. ‘There are just different ways of doing it, I suppose.’

‘What do you mean?’ Charles asked, leaning forwards interestedly. Erik could easily imagine him in an old fashioned gentleman’s club, drinking port and arguing philosophy, his hands gesticulating wildly with enthusiasm. It was a surprisingly attractive picture.

Erik shrugged.

‘Well,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘Some people try to save the world through petitions, and politics and by donating money to charity – all of which are perfectly acceptable, I hasten to add. From what I have seen, you seem to be the type of person who would prefer such methods, laborious and time-consuming though they may be. Others however, try to save the world through more … _aggressive_ means.’ He looked Charles straight in the eye. ‘Wars, for example. Violence. Such methods have the potential benefit of being quicker and a lot more efficient than others.’

‘And I suppose you prefer such methods?’ Charles asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Where necessary, yes,’ Erik nodded. ‘I do not mean to devalue other methods of peace-keeping, but I am not so naïve as to think that a resolution can occur without the use of force. Sometimes the only way of achieving peace is through destroying those who would threaten it.’

‘Now that I can’t agree with!’ Charles protested. ‘What use is peace if one cannot achieve it through peaceful means? There is always a better way. Killing will not bring you peace.’

‘I am afraid that we will have to disagree on that account,’ Erik said, smiling thinly. ‘I find that sometimes it is necessary to reject peaceful methods even whilst acting in the name of peace. It is the only way to ensure that you are taken seriously. Action, or the threat of action is the only thing that will keep people in line.’

Charles was frowning in thought.

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ he said, biting his lip and looking impossibly young. ‘I believe that at heart, people _want_ peace. That at the end of the day peaceful co-existence _is_ possible.’

‘You fail to take into account human nature,’ Erik said bitterly. ‘Greed, hate, prejudice … there will always be something to hate, something to fear. At the end of the day, we cannot escape the reality of it: humans are _weak_.’ His mouth curled in distaste.

Charles let out an awkward laugh.

‘My friend, you talk as if you were not human yourself.’

Erik threw him a sharp look, before relaxing. He gave Charles a small smile.

‘I am afraid I share too many of the same weaknesses and flaws to consider myself otherwise,’ he said, smiling crookedly.

‘I’m sure you are not that bad,’ Charles chuckled, placing his hand over Erik’s for the briefest of seconds. Erik’s hand felt bare when it was removed, and he swallowed. The temperature in the room seemed to suddenly have rocketed up and both men were immediately aware of it.

‘And how can you be sure of that?’ Erik murmured, allowing his eyes to drift down the curve of Charles’s jaw. ‘We’ve only just met.’

Charles flushed a little but that didn’t stop him from smiling back at Erik.

‘You could just say I’m good at reading people,’ he murmured, looking up at Erik from under his eyelashes.

Their eyes connected and neither looked away. Erik had a moment’s idle thought that their faces were surprisingly close together - and were getting closer by the second - when a shadow passed over them, startling them apart. It was the girl from behind the counter, coming to collect their empty cups and plates.

‘I’m sorry but the café’s closing up now,’ she said, her tone apologetic.

Charles blinked and looked over at the counter before glancing down at his watch and sighing.

‘Ah, so it is,’ he said, his tone rueful.

The girl gave him another apologetic smile before turning and leaving.

‘So,’ Charles said after a moment, looking at Erik. ‘It seems that our time is up.’

‘Yes it does,’ Erik agreed equably, looking back. He and Charles sat in silence for a moment before moving to collect their respective books. They said nothing as they packed away and pulled on their coats. 

‘So,’ Charles said again, after they were done and there was nothing more to keep them. 

‘So,’ Erik repeated, strangely hesitant to say goodbye and wishing that the evening would carry on for a little longer.

Charles opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut and biting his lip hesitantly instead. He glanced away before looking back at Erik and something in Erik’s expression seemed to settle him.

‘Look,’ he said in a terribly earnest voice. ‘It’s not often that I meet someone that I _really_ enjoy talking with, and as I’ve got little to do at the moment, what with Raven being out this evening, I was thinking – that is, if you don’t have anything better to do – do you maybe want to come back to mine and continue our discussion over a drink or two? Or coffee, if you’d like, though I warn you now, I’m rubbish at making it – unless you want tea, I make an _excellent_ cup of tea, if I say so myself …’

Erik just let Charles babble on nervously, his lips twitching in amusement. He waited till Charles had trailed off before answering.

‘Charles,’ he said quietly, and somehow the name felt intimate on his tongue. ‘I would love to.’

Charles beamed back at him and for the first time in years, Erik felt his heart lighten.

 

*

 

Shaw blinked in surprise as something dark and rectangular was slammed down on his desk. Glaring up in irritation, he saw Emma leaning down, both hands against the desk, her eyes cold.

‘Yes?’ he asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

‘You wanted me to look into the security tapes,’ Emma said, her voice giving nothing away.

Shaw couldn’t help but grin.

‘Ah yes, the tapes!’ he leered at her, his tone mocking. ‘Did you happen to find anything there, my dear?’

Emma silently pushed forward the object she had brought with her. Shaw now recognised it as a video tape; it seemed that Emma’s quest hadn’t been quite so pointless after all. He let out a sigh. Pleased as he was with the discovery, he couldn’t help but also feel slightly disappointed in their mystery man. If he had allowed himself to be captured on camera then he was not nearly as good as Shaw had thought – had _hoped_ – he was. 

‘So you _did_ find something,’ Shaw said instead, covering his disappointment. ‘Oh well _done_ , my dear!’ he patted her hand, hiding his glee at Emma’s stony expression. ‘It was a good thing I told you to check those cameras then, wasn’t it?’

A muscle in Emma’s jaw twitched.

‘Your intelligence and intuition astounds us all,’ she said in a bored tone. She then nodded down at the tape. ‘This wasn’t part of the warehouse security. It wasn’t even nearby – it’s the security tape of a private company situated some way away from the warehouse. They operate very powerful cameras and lucky for us, one of them just so happened to be pointed in the right direction.’

‘We have a picture of the man?’ Shaw sat up, attentive.

Emma gave a sharp nod.

‘It’s not very clear,’ she said. ‘And it’s pure luck that we caught it – he only appears once, and that’s right on the edge of the frame. Azazel’s working on it right now. He says he will be able to get a good enough picture for you to recognise the guy, if you know him.’

‘Then by all means,’ Shaw leaned back in his chair and gestured with his hand, his blank expression hiding the curiosity he felt inside. 

Emma turned and her brow wrinkled slightly as she checked in with Azazel. Then her forehead smoothened out and she stepped back, just as Azazel appeared in a puff of red and black smoke, clutching something in his hands. 

‘The picture,’ he said, holding out a glossy piece of paper, its face down. ‘I have enlarged it as much as is possible. I can do no more.’ He stood there silently, waiting patiently for Shaw to take the photograph.

For a moment, Shaw did nothing. An odd feeling was settling over him, one of anticipation and expectation. It was as if he knew what was coming, as if he had been waiting for something and now it had finally – inevitably – arrived. Sitting up in his chair, he slowly, carefully reached out and took the picture. When he turned it over, he felt no surprise. Even with the blurred image and the poor angle, he knew who it was. He’d recognise that face anywhere.

‘Who is that?’ Emma asked, leaning forward and frowning. ‘Do we know him?’

Shaw felt a delighted laugh bubble up inside of him.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said, his voice almost a purr and his eyes flashing with mirth. ‘We most certainly do.’ He ignored the glance between Emma and Azazel and returned his attention to the picture in front of him. ‘Well, well, well,’ he murmured to himself, letting his eyes trace over the face in the picture once more in an almost tangible caress. ‘This _is_ a surprise. Little Erik Lehnsherr, all grown up …’

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

‘Checkmate,’ Charles said with relish, his expression full of mischievous glee. He grinned impishly at Erik who couldn’t help smiling back, unable to bring himself to be put out by the loss. 

‘I’ve simply been out of practice,’ he said instead, affecting a defensive tone.

Charles gave a snort.

‘If _that_ was you out of practice, then I’d give my left leg to see you at your full capabilities. No doubt you’d be a force to reckon with that I doubt even I could match!’

‘False modesty doesn’t suit you,’ Erik said dryly. ‘And you may as well go ahead and do that victory dance you’ve been sitting on all evening, you are practically bouncing on your seat with glee as it is.’

‘I would never rub it in like that, my friend!’ Charles protested, his lovely blue eyes wide and innocent, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘At least,’ he amended. ‘Not before having a few more drinks. My dancing is _atrocious_ , I wouldn’t be caught dead doing it whilst sober.’

‘Then by all means,’ Erik gestured towards the drinks cabinet that Charles had unveiled earlier, and watched as Charles’s expression immediately brightened at the promise of alcohol. ‘I’m curious to witness this atrocious dancing for myself.’

Charles laughed as he rose from his seat. 

‘Be careful what you wish for, my friend,’ he said, his eyes twinkling as he walked away, leaving Erik to his own thoughts for the first time that evening.

Erik had indeed gone home with Charles after leaving the café, only too pleased that the night was not yet at an end. They had taken a cab and had soon arrived at Westchester, only for Erik to realise that by ‘house’ Charles had actually meant ‘mansion’. Or, to be more accurate, ‘ _bloody huge_ mansion’. 

Charles had displayed surprising reticence when Erik had joked at the hardship of living in such a place.

‘You’d be surprised,’ he had murmured with a dark expression, piquing Erik’s curiosity. ‘I spent a good deal of my youth here. Most of the time, I would have given anything to have lived anywhere else.’

He hadn’t said anything more on the subject.

After having shown Erik around – which in itself took more than a little while – Charles had suggested that they have a light supper. They had muddled through somehow, despite Charles immediately announcing his inability to cook and foisting the burden on Erik without the barest shadow of an apology. Erik had been surprised to find that he didn’t mind – it was amazing the number of things that he found tolerable when in Charles’s presence – and indeed, though the resulting fare was simple, he could not help but think that the supper had been one of the best and most satisfying that he had ever had. It appeared that good company and stimulating conversation did indeed make all the difference, and Charles provided both in bucket-loads.

This was in particular evidence when they had eventually retired to Charles’s study. They had chatted amiably for a good while, Charles becoming all the more effusive and enthusiastic when they broke out the alcohol. It was only when they had started playing chess that he had relatively quietened down. 

Coincidentally, it was just about the same time that Erik realised that he was in quite a bit of trouble. 

He honestly didn’t quite understand what had happened. He didn’t have a clue about how he had ended up here, in a stranger’s _mansion_ after only a few hours of knowing him, with no ulterior motive and for no other reason than a previously undiscovered desire for companionship. Erik didn’t _do_ companionship. He had never needed it before. He’d never had any friends before, and yet he could quite decisively state that he and Charles were now friends (he firmly ignored the part where he and Charles had been flirting and sneaking glances at each other all evening – that was yet another thing that Erik _simply didn’t do_ ). 

And yet, now as he looked over at Charles humming happily to himself and pouring them both generous doses of what seemed to be a particularly expensive brand of whiskey, he couldn’t help but feel a sudden warmth suffuse him, along with a form of tender indulgence that was particularly foreign to him. He shook himself and dug his nails into his thighs. This was unacceptable. All it had taken was a smile and one kind word from a pretty face and there he was, acting like a goddamned fool, acting like he didn’t have other things to think about, other people to find, other duties to fulfil.

He sighed and let his gaze linger on Charles, feeling troubled by the strange emotions in his chest. He had never felt like this before, had never felt this keen attraction and affection for a person he had only known for a brief while. For a person he had known for _any_ length of time, if he was honest. The last person he had cared for had been his mother and that – well, that had come to a swift and brutal end, Shaw had seen to that. And that was why it was important to leave here, to go and get on with his self-appointed mission, because Shaw _mattered_ , his confrontation with Shaw was _all_ that mattered and nothing and no one could stop him or sway him from that purpose.

… But surely one night wouldn’t matter? In the broad scheme of things. What was one little night? Surely he deserved that? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t … indulged before. He had taken time to get drunk, to relax, to have sex. Surely this – and okay, so it was quite possible that sex wasn’t at all on the cards, and he would never ever have _expectations_ or anything, especially about someone like Charles, someone so _good_ and _innocent_ like Charles who could do so much better than a shady, angry stranger whom he had picked up in a café of all places, but … 

Erik’s thoughts dissolved the moment Charles started to make his way back to him, drinks in hand and a smile on his face, and all that was left was a slightly restless feeling inside of him that he couldn’t quite place.

‘I was rather thinking that we could go and have drinks on the balcony,’ Charles said with a smile, indicating the direction with his head. Erik gave a silent nod of agreement, suddenly feeling slightly on edge for no discernable reason. He shook himself before standing and taking the drink from Charles before following him out of the room.

‘I like to come out here to think,’ Charles confided when they eventually came upon the balcony. ‘It allows me to clear my head. Gives me some space.’

Erik nodded silently and took a sip of his drink. 

‘You’d think that growing up in a big old house like this would be enough,’ Charles continued in an odd voice, huffing out a laugh that contained little actual humour. ‘It wasn’t though. Sometimes even having a single other person around felt taxing. Times were, even those thick, solid oak doors that we have didn’t feel enough.’ Charles lowered his head and patted the wall of the balcony almost gently. ‘This balcony came in very useful when I was younger.’

Erik didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure if he was even meant to.

‘Do you ever get that?’ Charles asked, his eyes fixed on somewhere in the distance. ‘That feeling where you can’t stand to be near _anyone_ , even if they are your own mother? Where you just ... want to be alone with yourself for a while?’

‘I don’t know,’ Erik said after a moment, when he realised that an answer was expected from him. ‘It’s never really been an issue with me, I am usually always alone. I don’t associate with very many people.’

That seemed to bring Charles out of his sombre reverie and he stared up at Erik with wide blue eyes.

‘Oh _Erik_ ,’ he murmured, and there was sadness and pity in those eyes.

Erik noticed and felt his hands clench involuntarily. If there was one thing that he had never been good at receiving, it was pity. Beatings he could take by the dozen, but not pity. And especially not from Charles.

Charles seemed to be oblivious to Erik’s darkening mood.

‘Do you travel much, for your job?’ he asked, his voice soft.

‘Yes,’ Erik said brusquely, clenching his jaw and hoping that Charles would recognise his reluctance to speak and stop asking him questions.

He had no such luck.

‘Do you have somewhere you call home?’ 

Erik paused, and before he could stop himself, his thoughts went to a tiny little house, to a small cot in the corner of the room, to a woman with the sweet voice of a nightingale, singing him to sleep and stroking his brow.

His mouth suddenly felt dry. He hadn’t thought of that house in years.

He took a long gulp of his whiskey, savouring the burn in his throat. Something inside of him mourned the loss of that house, that voice, that hand upon his brow.

‘No,’ he replied at last, and was vaguely surprised to find that his voice was rough and his hands were tightly curled around the balcony ledge, fingers white with the punishing grip. ‘I have no home. Not anymore.’

‘No family?’ Charles asked delicately, his voice soft but nonetheless painful.

Erik’s whole frame twitched, and his already tight grip on the balcony ledge tightened impossibly further. _Why couldn’t Charles stop **talking**_?

‘No,’ he choked out, feeling the old anger and pain being dredged up from deep within him. ‘There is no one. I have no one.’ 

No friends. No family. No mother. No one.

They were dead.

Killed.

Murdered.

_Shaw._

Erik heard a sudden yelp and whipped around to face Charles, who was waving his left hand wildly in a panic, as if trying to dislodge something from his wrist. Blinking, Erik suddenly realised that Charles was trying to remove his watch. His _crumpled **metal**_ watch.

His stomach clenched and his heart seemed to stutter. He had done that. He had lost control and destroyed Charles’s watch and had possibly almost broken Charles’s wrist in the process. And now Charles – sharp, intelligent, too smart for his own good Charles - would put two and two together and, and –

Charles was staring at Erik in wonder. 

‘You did that, didn’t you?’ His voice was one of awe, but contained no fear; nor, it seemed, did it contain much surprise. ‘It was you. You broke my watch _with your mind_.’

Erik opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. 

Charles knew. Oh god, Charles – the man he had only met that evening, the man who surely could scarcely care who he was and what might happen to him – _knew_. 

His heart began to beat rapidly.

‘Erik?’

Erik found himself tensed up as if expecting a fight. _Charles is weak,_ he found himself thinking. _I don’t even have to use my powers to subdue him. I don’t even need to kill –_ He flinched, his mind immediately shuttering away from the thought of permanently harming Charles, let alone killing him. _No, I won’t harm him more than necessary,_ he decided. 

_Er – thanks?_

Erik blinked. The words in his head made no sense. Thanks? What was he – his eyes fell on Charles whose expression of wry amusement only half covered his anxiety. _Wait – what?_

Calm your mind, Erik, said a voice inside of Erik’s head and somehow, incredibly, it was Charles’s, even though Charles’s lips hadn’t moved. _It’s okay, everything’s okay. We are the same, my friend. You are not alone._

‘Not -’ Erik gasped out, feeling overwhelmed. ‘Not – what _are_ you?’

‘I’m like you, Erik,’ Charles said, a hopeful smile forming on his face. ‘A mutant.’ _A telepath,_ he added wordlessly.

‘A telepath,’ Erik repeated, overawed. Then the reality of the situation struck him. ‘You – you can _read my mind?’_

Among other things, came the reply.

Before either of them knew it, Charles was forced back against the balcony, the remains of his watch suddenly melting to form a taut cord against the soft flesh of his neck. It pressed against Charles, though even now Erik couldn’t find it in himself to truly hurt him.

‘Who are you?’ Erik growled, teeth and fists clenched in anger. ‘Have you been in my head all along? Have you been making me _think_ things? What do you know? What do you want?’

‘Erik!’ Charles gasped out, fingers scrabbling against his throat, more in instinctive panic than out of any true danger. ‘Erik – please!’ He quickly changed into speaking telepathically. _Erik, you know who I am – I swear I don’t want to hurt you, I just – I – I’ve never met anyone else like us, that’s all, I swear_ – He took a deep shuddering breath as Erik pulled the metal cord away from Charles’s throat, standing silently and waiting for Charles to speak. ‘I was too busy reading, I didn’t even realise you were like me till about half an hour of sitting next to you in the café. I don’t know how, but I could sense you were different – that you weren’t like other people. That you were like _me_. That’s why I started to talk to you.’

Erik regarded him suspiciously.

‘And that’s the _only_ reason why?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes.

To his surprise, Charles blushed. 

‘Oh!’ Charles said, not meeting Erik’s eyes. ‘Well – erm – yes, in a way – I mean. Well-’ For some reason this stumbling display put Erik more at ease than Charles’s earlier words, and he relaxed slightly, just as Charles seemed to give up. ‘Oh blast it – well, it’s not as if you can’t see just how – the other reason I started to talk to you is because I find you really bloody attractive, okay?’ Charles sounded positively defensive and the colour was high on his cheeks.

There was a pause, wherein Charles looked positively mortified while Erik just stood there, blinking dumbly.

‘Oh.’ Erik said at last, not quite knowing how to respond to that, though he was now pretty sure that Charles was who he said he was. At any rate, he wasn’t one of Shaw’s creatures, that much was obvious. ‘Right.’ He then remembered the actual subject at hand. ‘And what about my other question? Were you reading my mind the whole time? What do you know of me?’

Charles gave him a wry look.

‘Not as much as you seem to think,’ he said calmly. ‘Reading minds – it’s not as easy as everyone seems to believe. Besides, I _do_ have morals – I would _never_ go poking around in someone’s head without their permission, or if I didn’t think it necessary. It’s _wrong_.’

Erik ignored the question of morality. He was more concerned with what Charles _had_ done to _him_ than he was with the general ethics of mind-reading, and this was more out of a personal fear than out of any perceived threat of danger. He needed to know where he stood with Charles – if Charles knew what he was, what he _did_. Somehow, he didn’t think that Charles would approve of his being a one-man assassination squad. He almost _hoped_ he wouldn’t approve – that Charles actually _was_ the caring, naïve man that Erik believed him to be. And yet, he didn’t think that he could bear it if Charles recoiled from him in disgust, either. 

‘What do you _know_ , Charles?’ he repeated, keeping his voice even. 

‘Like I said, not very much,’ Charles answered honestly. ‘I just saw that you were a mutant, and only a few of your surface thoughts. I didn’t dig any deeper. Just a name that keeps being repeated, _shouted_ , in your head again and again – Shaw? He seems to be … important to you. I don’t think it’s in a good way. You have a lot of anger in you, my friend,’ Charles said quietly. ‘And pain. I sensed a good deal of pain, and I am sorry for it. But I promise you, I did not pry any further. I _will_ not go any further, not unless you ask it of me.’

Erik let out a deep breath, relieved. Charles’s eyes were wide and earnest and Erik couldn’t help but believe him. He had little choice but to, he thought. What else could one do when up against a telepath? He gave Charles a small, sharp nod, causing him to let out a sigh of relief before looking up at Erik almost meekly, his expression hopeful and fearful all at once. 

‘Is it – are you … okay with this?’ he asked hesitantly. ‘My – my telepathy I mean. It – it’s fine if you aren’t. I know it’s odd. More than odd. I can’t say that many people know about it but most of them don’t really … react _well_ to it, if you know what I mean. So what I’m saying is – I won’t be offended if you choose to walk out of here right now and never see me again. Honest.’ His face was expressionless and his eyes were unblinking, but Erik was full aware that a rejection from him would in truth hurt Charles dearly. 

And if the last few hours had taught Erik nothing, it had taught him that clearly he was helpless when it came to Charles Xavier.

‘Don’t be silly,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m not leaving. I am perfectly fine with your – _telepathy_ as long as you promise not to read my mind without permission.’ The beaming smile that Charles gave him as well as his immediate agreement made Erik want to smile back, but he schooled his face into a scowl instead. ‘All those other people – they were idiots,’ he said, eyes fixed determinedly away. ‘Un-evolved, weak-minded idiots. Your – _gift_ is magnificent. _You_ are magnificent.’ 

Charles flushed red with pleasure at the compliment.

‘You too,’ he murmured, his eyes tracing Erik almost reverently before catching Erik’s gaze. ‘You are quite magnificent yourself.’

‘I’m quite aware,’ Erik said, his small smirk softened by the gentleness in his eyes. He shook his head and cleared his throat. ‘And that’s it? You’re quite sure that you didn’t read anything else from my mind?’ He hated to return to it, but the question was an important one and would determine his future interactions with Charles. ‘You don’t know anything more about me?’

Charles hummed in thought for a moment before a small smile appeared on his face. He cocked his head and bit his already red lower lip. 

‘Well,’ he said slowly, before looking up at Erik from under his eyelashes in a move calculated to make Erik feel breathless. ‘There was _one_ other thing that I couldn’t help gleaning from you.’ He paused, and his lips curved up into a smile. ‘Apparently you think that I am really quite attractive.’

Oh. Well. _This_ Erik could deal with. This was – well. It was _Charles_.

And he had never wanted someone so much in his life. Not the way he seemed to want Charles.

‘There’s no ‘apparently’ about it,’ Erik said, his voice quiet, its intensity at odds with the playfulness of Charles’s earlier tone. He paused, before adding honestly, ‘I want you.’

Charles seemed to have not been expecting such candidness, and just stared at Erik for a moment, his eyes wide.

Then, letting out a sigh that sounded a lot like relief, his shoulders dropped and he leaned forward into Erik’s space, weaving almost drunkenly as he looked up into Erik’s eyes.

‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ he said with a soft smile, and then, before Erik knew, their lips were pressed together and Charles’s eyelashes were flickering as his eyes shut and then there was nothing else, just the two of them alone, on a balcony, kissing.

When at last they moved apart, Charles’s eyes were soft and warm, and Erik knew that his own expression was not so different, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They stood there and looked at each other in silence, unmoving, both of them unwilling to break the spell that seemed to have descended on them. Then, at last, Charles hesitantly raised his hand and placed it gently on Erik’s forearm.

‘Erik,’ he said, his voice liquid-soft, his gaze warm and clear. ‘Come to bed.’

And unable to do anything else - as if they had done this a hundred times before - Erik followed Charles to his bedroom, his fingers tightly clutching the hand that Charles had slipped into his.

And as Erik pressed Charles down into the bed shortly after, his mouth leaving bruising, breathless kisses on delicate pale skin, silently weaving promises he would never articulate into Charles’s quivering flesh, he knew now without a doubt that he was well and truly fucked.

 

**…**

 

Erik lay in bed, his chest rising and falling slightly faster than normal as he took a few seconds to come down from the peaks of pleasure that he had attained mere moments ago. Sweat slicked his chest and the hollow of his throat and while this would normally have made him uncomfortable, right now he could think of nothing that he liked better than just lying back in bed in a post-coital glow with his arm around Charles, stroking his fingers gently up and down Charles’s side.

Charles made a contented sound and curled closer, his lips brushing the skin of Erik’s chest and making his heart stutter ever so slightly.

Sex with Charles was … Erik had no words to describe it. He couldn’t even call it sex – _love-making_ , what they had done was _love-making_. The thought simultaneously thrilled and frightened him to his core. 

He glanced down at the floor where his clothes now lay in a puddle besides Charles’s and sighed. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he carefully levered his right leg off the bed, his left leg still tangled up in the bedclothes. Not daring to shift his legs any further, Erik then attempted to cautiously extricate his arm from a lightly-dozing Charles, tugging his arm ever so gingerly away – only for Charles’s eyes to snap wide open and pin him in place.

‘Erik?’ the words were accompanied by a confused frown that slowly smoothened out as Charles realised what Erik was attempting to do. His expression softened. ‘No, don’t go,’ he said quietly, his hand gently laying itself over Erik’s chest; over his heart. ‘Don’t leave me. Stay.’

Erik opened his mouth but, realising that he had no chance whatsoever of resisting, swallowed his words.

‘Okay,’ he said instead, lying back down against Charles and curving up around him. ‘I will stay.’

Charles gave a low hum of pleasure and snuggled up closer, pulling the sheets around them in a cocoon of bliss.

 

**…**

 

‘I’m glad I met you,’ Charles murmured at one point during the night, both of them seemingly having made a silent agreement to bask in the other’s company for as long as was possible, intuitively aware that their companionship could not last for long. ‘This house has so many bad memories … it’s good to have a few that I can… look upon fondly.’

Erik’s brow puckered but he did not want to pry and spoil the mood of gentle laziness that surrounded them.

‘What about your sister?’ he murmured.

‘Raven?’ a fond little smile spread over Charles’s face. ‘Well – of course _she_ has always been a bright spot in my otherwise very mundane little life – as she will readily tell you herself. She has her own life though – we don’t seem to see each other very much nowadays. She spends as little time as possible in the house – she seems to hate it even more than I do. I honestly believe that the only reason she actually stays here is for me – she doesn’t want to leave me alone here. I’m certain she’d be happier elsewhere.’ Charles frowned. ‘Sometimes I – I fear that I am holding her back. Preventing her from fulfilling her potential and her dreams without even meaning to. I can’t help but fear that one day she will resent me for it.’ He swallowed, and Erik stroked his hair soothingly. Charles blinked at the touch and shook his head, letting out a strained laugh. ‘I’m sorry, my friend, that was rather bad form, wasn’t it? Talking about my sister while we are in bed. Not the _best_ pillow-talk, I would say, wouldn’t you?’

Erik hummed and pressed his lips to Charles’s forehead.

‘I don’t mind,’ he said with astonishing sincerity. ‘I like knowing about you, Charles. I want to know everything about you. Everything.’

Charles raised his head and looked up at Erik, his eyes shining. He attempted to speak but couldn’t find the words to capture what it was that he felt in that moment.

‘Kiss me,’ he said instead, and when Erik obliged, he put into his lips all the words that he had not been able to articulate, and allowed himself to be pressed back into the bed.

 

**…**

 

As he lay back, sweaty and exhausted and happy beyond all measure, Erik wondered with awe how it was that he had ever lived without Charles Xavier in his life, without his enchanting kisses, the silky touch of his chest, his mind murmuring words of contentment and whispering lovingly into Erik’s.

He closed his eyes and clenched his hands in fear as he wondered how on earth he was going to survive without them when this was all over.

 

**…**

 

‘Come with me Charles. Come away with me.’

Charles rolled his head over so that it was facing Erik and raised an amused eyebrow, his thoughts still pleasantly hazy. 

‘Oh?’ he asked lazily. ‘Where would we go?’

‘Anywhere,’ Erik said recklessly. ‘Australia. Egypt. Back to Oxford, if you want. Just … away.’

Charles frowned, though it was more thoughtful than anything else.

‘It _sounds_ like a nice idea,’ he said dubiously. He gave a small laugh. ‘And I would finally make a start on that masterpiece of a novel that I have always promised myself that I would write, and you would take up painting, I suppose?’ his mouth twitched and he shook his head amusedly. ‘It’s a pretty thought, I grant you. And I quite like the idea of you with paint all over …’ he leaned over to kiss Erik on the lips.

‘Charles, be serious,’ Erik reluctantly pulled away before Charles could make contact. ‘I’m asking you to come away with me. I want us to be together.’

Charles pulled back, sitting up with a small frown on his face.

‘Wait – you’re serious,’ he said, sounding surprised.

Erik bristled.

‘Yes, I am,’ he said rather snappishly. Inside he was panicking. What if Charles didn’t feel the same as he did? It was understandable – it had been less than a day since they had met. Maybe Charles even did this all the time – what if this had merely been a casual encounter for him? What if he was now laughing at Erik’s foolishness, at how he had made an ass of himself in front of Charles by falling for him so hard and fast? What if-

‘Erik! _Erik_!’ Charles reached out and grabbed Erik’s wrists, forcing him to turn and look him in the eye. ‘Stop it, stop thinking like that. You’re not – I _do_! I _do_ feel the same way, this has _not_ been at all casual for me – and God knows I should know – I have never felt this way before, and – and I want to be with you too, Erik.’ He lowered his eyes at that before looking up at Erik with an apologetic grimace. ‘Sorry,’ he said, with a regretful smile. ‘You were shouting in your head. I couldn’t help hearing.’

Erik waved away his apology.

‘Y-you feel the same?’ he asked, staring at Charles like _he_ was now the mind reader.

Charles let out a sigh and ran his arm sweepingly down Erik’s chest.

‘Oh Erik,’ he murmured. ‘Could you not already tell?’

Erik’s eyes softened but he still did not remove his gaze, instead becoming all the more determined, his hands gripping Charles’s forearms tightly.

‘You will come with me?’ he asked, his eyes boring into Charles’s.

Charles bit his lip and frowned. He chewed his lip thoughtfully as he considered.

‘I will try,’ he said at last. ‘I’m not promising anything, mind, but I will try. There’s a lot I have to consider and it’s not an easy decision to make. _Especially_ when considering that I only _met_ you less than ten hours ago,’ his lips gave a wry twist but his expression gentled when Erik’s fingers gripped his arms tighter with anxiety. ‘I _will_ consider it, however’ he promised, gently prying Erik’s fingers off his arms. ‘That much I promise.’

Erik hesitated, before giving a sharp, decisive nod.

‘That is all I can ask,’ Erik he said, and gave Charles a small smile to let him know that he understood and that he would not pressure Charles any more tonight. He then pressed a kiss to Charles’s lips and pushed him gently back down to the bed. 

 

**…**

 

‘What are you thinking?’ Charles murmured drowsily a little later, his fingers brushing against Erik’s arm.

Erik turned to glance at him and smiled, leaning over to brush a kiss over his lips.

‘I was just thinking how strange this all is,’ he murmured, his lips millimetres from Charles’s skin. ‘How new to me it is. Wanting to be with someone, I mean.’ He smiled wryly as Charles cocked his head, inquisitive. ‘With my job, what with all the … _travelling_ , I never got to have a steady relationship before. Never _wanted_ one before. This is – I think I understand now. Why people settle down, stay in one place. I never got that before.’

Charles stroked his arm silently.

‘Sounds lonely,’ he said softly. ‘ _You_ must have been lonely.’

Erik hummed thoughtfully.

‘Not lonely,’ he amended. ‘Just alone.’

Charles was silent for a moment. Then, before Erik could open his mouth to change the subject, he had shuffled closer.

‘Not anymore,’ he whispered, curling himself into Erik’s chest, his arms tight around Erik’s torso. ‘To hell with this house. To hell with everything else. I’m coming with you, Erik. You’re not alone any more. You hear me? You are not alone.’

 

*****

 

‘Looks like he’s been around,’ Emma said dryly, looking over what little they had gathered on Lehnsherr. The little that they had was quite enough. It was clear, now that they were looking for it, to see the pattern that had emerged over the years. An inexplicable act of brutality here, a few strange disappearances there, and it all added up to one thing: Shaw – and by extension, Emma and the others – were being tailed by a metal-wielding, blood-thirsty psychopath.

‘He’s trailed us all over the world,’ Azazel murmured, his thick, accented voice unable to stop the awe from shining through. ‘He has been tracking us for _years_ – he has been _killing_ ours for years!’

Shaw’s jaw was tight.

‘How did we not know about this?’ he snapped, his eyes burning with anger – and, Emma dared to think, not a little fear. ‘This man – this _boy_ , he was nothing but a _boy_ when he began this mad pursuit – he has been tracking us for _years_ now, and how is it that we are only just hearing about it?’

Azazel and Emma exchanged a glance. 

‘He appears to be very good at what he does,’ Azazel said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

‘ _He’s been pulling people apart with metal!_ ’ Shaw snarled, getting to his feet in his agitation. ‘We have a fucking _telepath_ on our side!’ he turned to sneer at Emma. ‘What bloody use _are_ you, if you can’t pick up on a thing like that?’ he barked, glaring at her. ‘If there’s one thing that I cannot tolerate, it is incompetence and _you_ , Emma dearest, have been colossally _inept_.’

It took all of Emma’s well-trained focus in that moment to stop herself from turning Shaw into a catatonic vegetable. All she would have to do was whip that _ridiculous_ helmet from off of his overly-large head and … 

Azazel’s hand on her arm brought her back down to earth and out of the realm of fantasy. She sighed. It was days like this that she wondered why on earth she was still with Sebastian Shaw, world domination and mutant supremacy notwithstanding.

‘He simply hadn’t ever come up on our radar,’ she said at last, folding her arms resignedly. ‘We were always long gone by the time he came after us, and it’s not as if we ever considered checking after our former allies once we had no more use for them.’

Shaw scowled but he couldn’t deny the truth in her words.

‘That all changes from here on out,’ he snarled. ‘Lehnsherr is in the country and is now closer than he has ever been before.’ He turned to Azazel. ‘Get in touch with everyone here who we have dealings with and set them on alert. Tell them to beef up security, but to do it discretely. Take Riptide with you.’ Azazel nodded and immediately disappeared in a swirl of red smoke. Shaw then turned to Emma. ‘Make sure that we are kept in the loop,’ he said coldly, before sitting back in his chair and lacing his fingers together. ‘I want to know the moment that dear little Erik comes back out to play.’

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Erik wasn’t immediately sure why it was that he had woken, only that his feelings upon waking were not those of panic and fear, but of contentment and pleasure. Glancing to his side, those feelings seemed to expand inside of him with a brilliantly warm glow as he caught sight of Charles’s ruffled head peeking out of the sheets and snuggled deep into the pillow, his face tucked neatly into the space between Erik’s neck and shoulder.

‘Charles,’ Erik breathed, his breath ruffling the hair on Charles’s head, making him unconsciously nuzzle even closer into Erik’s space. Erik was breathless for a second, unable to move or think or speak just for the sheer perfection of that moment.

And then he heard his phone go off again. 

It was on silent – as it always was – but Erik was a light sleeper and so the noise evinced by the vibrations was all that he needed. Usually he would have been able to pick it up from its first ring, but apparently being so near to Charles had lowered his defences. He quickly and carefully disentangled himself from Charles’s embrace and slipped over to where his trousers had been discarded, pawing efficiently at them until he managed to grasp hold of his phone from within the pocket.

‘Yes?’ he said brusquely, creeping away from the bedroom and shutting the door behind him so as to not wake Charles.

‘Long time no speak, _cher_ ,’ came the cheery voice from the other end of the phone. 

‘I’ve been busy,’ Erik grunted out, relaxing minutely at the voice. 

‘That no joke, Remy almost think you no longer with us, when you don’t pick up on the first ring.’

Erik let out an impatient grunt.

‘What do you have for me Remy?’

‘What, no “how you doin’?” No “nice to hear from you”? Erik, I feel hurt!’

‘Just get on with it,’ Erik growled, gritting his teeth. It was cold out here in the hallway, and it made Erik miss the warmth of Charles’s bed even more.

‘Only ‘cause it’s you, _cher_ ,’ Remy laughed before becoming more professional. ‘There’s _un homme_ in New York. He used t’ deal with the Russians. I think you might find him … _informative_.’

‘Do you now?’ Erik murmured, reaching for the pen and paper on the hallway telephone stand. ‘Care to expand on that?’

He listened for a few minutes, jotting down the relevant details. 

‘I’ll find him today,’ Erik said after Remy had finished. ‘No use in waiting.’

‘I’d be surprised if you did,’ Remy said wryly. ‘In fact, Remy a little surprised you ain’t running out the door right ‘bout now.’

Erik glanced back at the bedroom door wistfully. 

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Me too.’

‘You have to slow yourself down, Erik,’ Remy said, his voice becoming serious. ‘Learn to enjoy them little things. Life can’t be all ‘bout killin’ people. Pleasure is _très important_ too. Take it from someone who knows.’

‘After Shaw,’ Erik promised, though whether he was promising Remy or himself he did not know. ‘After I get Shaw. Then I can let go.’

‘Hmm,’ Remy said doubtfully, before huffing. ‘Well if that is all, I’ve got me _une très belle_ redhead awaitin’ for me.’

Erik allowed himself a small smirk.

‘I don’t doubt it. Goodbye Remy. And thanks.’

‘Take care o’ yo’self Erik. _Au revoir_.’

_Click._

**…**

Erik waited for a moment, silently contemplating his next move. He sighed and pushed the hair back from his forehead. Taking a deep breath, he crept back towards the bedroom door and stepped in. He paused for a moment on the threshold, just long enough to ensure that Charles’s breaths were low and even, to make sure that he was still asleep. Then, quickly and carefully, he tiptoed over to where he had left his belongings and hurriedly pulled on the rest of his clothes, making as little noise as possible. 

When he was finally completely dressed, with all of his belongings tucked away inside his pockets, he hesitated for a moment, before walking over to the bed. He paused when he reached the side and just stood there, looking down on Charles’s soft, innocent face.

‘I’ll come back for you,’ he promised, his voice a low murmur that didn’t so much as make Charles twitch. ‘I promise you, I’ll return. This won’t take long.’ He hesitated, almost leaning forward as he contemplated brushing a kiss against Charles’s cheek but at the last moment thought better of it, not wanting to do anything to wake him. 

With one last forlorn look at the bed, Erik slipped out of the room and then out of the house. His face changed the moment the cool night air hit his face, his wistful expression dropping away to reveal nothing but a cool, hard determination.

He had a job to do.

 

*****

 

Colonel William Stryker was not a very likeable man. In fact, one could even go so far as to say that he was predominantly unlikeable. His only loyalty was to himself, and a more bigoted, mistrustful character would be hard to find. The only value he put on anything was that of cold hard cash, a failing of his that had resulted in his discharge from the military. It was a well-known secret that his discharge ought to have been a dishonourable one – and it would have been, were it not for the number of favours that Stryker had managed to accumulate during his time as a Colonel, as well as the government’s desire to hush up any scent of a wrong-doing from so high within their ranks. As it was, Stryker managed to get out safe and sound, his vast, illegally-made fortune still mostly intact and his future secure in his own two hands. All he needed now was a direction to move in.

Stryker was well aware of the existence of mutants. More than aware, as it happened. Which is to say that he regarded them as an abomination, one that had to be scoured from the surface of the earth as quickly and cleanly as possible. It was for this reason that he now worked for Sebastian Shaw. Stryker had met him shortly after his discharge from the military at some function or the other, and Shaw had been very gracious and attentive, listening to Stryker’s words with fascination. He had later made contact with Stryker proposing a deal between the two of them, to which Stryker had readily agreed. It helped that he was also being paid handsomely for his troubles – the very house in which he now sat was testament to the generosity of Sebastian Shaw in return for the services rendered against the mutant problem.

The house, of course, had a state of the art security system, as was befitting the house of an ex-military man with contacts such as he now possessed. Everything from security cameras to high powered lasers bordered his fences, as did a number of ex-security men that he had hired to patrol his land. It would take a veritable army to get through to him.

Therefore, it was something of an enormous shock for him when, sitting in his dressing gown and in the middle of downing a glass of excellent scotch, there was a bang and the door of his private chambers burst open, revealing a tall and rangy man with clenched fists, his eyes cold and narrowed with purpose.

The glass of scotch dropped from Stryker’s hands.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded, standing up, outraged at the intrusion.

The man’s eyes seemed to darken.

‘Sebastian Shaw,’ the man spat, causing Stryker’s eyes to widen. ‘Where is Sebastian Shaw?’

‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about,’ Stryker said coldly, slowly moving his hand toward the panic button on the wall that would summon his security team in seconds. ‘Now I demand that you leave, sir, before my own men arrive. They will not go easy on you, I promise you.’

The man let out a harsh laugh that made Stryker shiver against his will.

‘That would be assuming that you had any men _left_ ,’ he said, and then he had gestured with his hands and – Stryker’s eyes widened with fear – Stryker’s hands were suddenly bound with strips of liquid metal that had been pulled from his own furnishings.

‘Mutant!’ he swore, recovering from his shock, his eyes burning with an intense, venomous hate. ‘I should have known! You’re a filthy _mutant_!’

The man’s mouth quirked in a smile that showed very little amusement.

‘Yes,’ he said calmly, looking down at his front which, Stryker now realised with fear – had more than a few bloodstains upon it, none of which belonged to the man. ‘I suppose I am, rather.’

Stryker snarled and started to struggle with his bindings, cursing the man in front of him, who was watching him with a hint of boredom.

‘Strange,’ he spoke quietly, almost to himself, his eyes not leaving Stryker. ‘That a man so full of hate for mutants would help _Sebastian Shaw_ of all people.’

The words didn’t seem to get through to Stryker, though the sound of the man’s voice made him lift his head up and bare his teeth at him. 

‘You will never get away with this, you piece of filth!’ Stryker’s eyes were full of the utmost loathing. ‘You and your kind should be exterminated from the face of the earth!’

The man’s eyes flashed.

‘I was planning to kill you for your association with Shaw,’ he said silkily. ‘But now I am sure that I will get much more pleasure out of this than I had at first anticipated. Don’t worry though,’ he gave Stryker a ghoulish smile. ‘If you talk first, then I will make it quick.’

‘Get away from me!’ Stryker gasped as the man began to walk forward, the metal bonds around Stryker’s arms twisting with each step. ‘Get away from me, you freak! Get-’

The man caught Stryker by the jaw in a vice-like grip.

‘Why, Mr. Stryker,’ he said, his voice like smooth velvet. ‘It seems that you are in need of a visit to the dentist. Please, allow me to assist you with that.’

Stryker’s eyes widened with fear.

‘In the meantime,’ the man continued, angling Stryker’s jaw for his own satisfaction. ‘Let us make some polite conversation. Tell me, what do you know of the whereabouts of one Sebastian Shaw?’

Stryker’s stubborn refusal died in his throat when he saw the gleam in the man’s eye.

‘Ah,’ the man said silkily, a pleased smile on his face. ‘Is that an iron filling that I see?’

The blood drained from Stryker’s face.

 

His screams that night would have chilled the blood of all that heard them. 

If, of course, there had been anyone left alive to hear them.

 

*****

Azazel’s face was grim as he teleported back to Shaw.

‘Well?’ Shaw snapped, his jaw tight.

Azazel grimaced.

‘Colonel Stryker,’ he said, his accent thick. ‘It appears that he is no longer with us.’

‘It appears?’ Shaw sneered.

Azazel gave a shrug.

‘It was hard to tell, what with all the bodies and the blood,’ he said dryly.

Shaw’s face paled. He whirled around.

‘Emma!’ he shouted. ‘Come here this _instant_! And bring Riptide too!’

Emma and Riptide were at his side moments later.

‘You heard?’ Shaw barked. 

Emma gave a small, sharp nod in reply.

Shaw’s nostrils flared but he tamped down on his anger and made himself calm down. There was no need to panic. Erik was his creation after all.

‘Azazel,’ he commanded, voice calm. ‘Take us to the Stryker compound.’

With a quick nod, Azazel stepped forward and, with all of them linking hands, teleported them out of the room in a puff of smoke. Milliseconds later, they were at the Stryker house – or at least, what was left of it.

Emma almost gagged when she saw that her expensively leather-encased foot was inches away from the messily smashed skull of a dead soldier. 

‘Where’s Stryker?’ Shaw asked tightly. 

Azazel silently pointed the way. 

Unnerved, they all trooped inside the house, trying to avoid stepping in or on anything in their path.

They approached Stryker’s rooms in silence. Then, with the tension at unbearable heights, they stepped through the door to his chambers.

Even Azazel had to look away. Only Shaw stared grimly around at the wanton destruction and bloody remains of the corpse that were left. 

As Azazel, Emma and Riptide stared around the room, they each had just one question in their minds. A question that only the telepath among them could voice.

‘Sebastian,’ Emma whispered, horror and disbelief warring in her voice. ‘Who _is_ this man?’

 

*****

Erik forced himself to calm down. Although there was no real chance of him crashing – being able to control metal had its advantages, after all – it still would not do to draw notice and the way he was feeling now meant that he was paying his motoring skills very little attention. 

He hadn’t meant to get so carried away. That was what he told himself. Usually he was very calm and clinical when it came to his excursions, but today he hadn’t been able to stop himself in his brutality – whether it was due to Stryker’s continued cursing against mutant-kind or as a reaction against the warm, fuzzy feelings he’d been having when with Charles, he did not know. All he knew was that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was covered in blood, and all he really wanted to do was get back to Charles and crawl into bed with him and stay there for the next week or so.

Unfortunately, that was impossible. Erik was not stupid – he knew that Stryker was an important man and that sooner or later – probably sooner, when considering the state-of-the-art security system Stryker had put in – someone would figure out what had happened and there would soon be a manhunt for his killer. And with Stryker being an ex-military man, the heat would not be off for a long time.

Erik gritted his teeth and clenched his hands over the steering wheel. The worst part was, the trip hadn’t even been worth it. Yes, it had been highly satisfying to kill one of Shaw’s henchmen, who also happened to be a mutant-hating bigot, but the result had not been worth it – the man had known nothing of Shaw’s whereabouts and only very minor details of his plans; whatever was going on, Shaw was far too intelligent to share his plans with a man such as Stryker. And now the police had the dead body of a retired colonel on their hands. It wouldn’t be safe for Erik to stay in the city for much longer.

And yet the thought of leaving sent a pang of despair into Erik’s heart. For once, this feeling was not caused by the thought of giving up the chase for Shaw. No, this time it was caused by the thought of leaving Charles.

It was odd, Erik reflected, that he should feel so strongly for a man that he had known for so short a period of time. And yet he could not help but feel that what he felt for Charles – what Charles felt for _him_ – was more real than any relationship that he had ever had in his entire lifetime. That instant connection that seemed to blaze between them … no, Erik couldn’t lose that. He had had the barest taste of what his life might be like outside of his quest for Shaw and whatever happened, whoever came after him, he wouldn’t give that up. He _couldn’t_ give that up.

… But did he have to? His mind flicked back to what he and Charles had said the night before. Charles was willing to come away with him, to leave everything behind and follow Erik across the world if he so asked. And yes, so Charles had probably meant for that to happen in a year or six months from now. But considering that he had promised last night … surely, if Erik asked …

He dismissed the idea. He couldn’t ask that of Charles. It would be _wrong_ of him to ask it of him. He should just leave. Leave, or lie low, or do _something_ that didn’t drag Charles into the mess that was his life. He should just stay the hell away from Charles and leave and not ruin and interfere with his life any more than he already had …

He should probably call Remy. 

With that sudden thought, Erik pulled over onto the side of the road and crawled out of his car. Taking the phone from out of his trouser pocket, he stared at it for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he made the call. 

Remy didn’t have much good to say.

‘That was my last lead, _cher_ ,’ he said apologetically. ‘If he don’t know where Shaw is then there’s nothin’ more Remy can do. All I can say is that you had best lie low for a li’l while, get outta the country.’

‘I know,’ Erik hung his head, frustrated. He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Can you help me with that?’

‘One ticket to Hawaii comin’ right up, _mon ami_.’

Erik paused. Then, before he could regret it:

‘Can you make that two?’

There was silence on the line.

‘Erik,’ Remy’s voice was low, cautious. ‘Erik, my friend, are you sure you know what you are doing?’

‘Yes,’ Erik said immediately, before wincing. ‘No. Maybe. Just – just get me two seats on a plane, okay Remy?’

There was a minute more of silence. 

‘ _Oui_ ,’ Remy said at last, sounding subdued. ‘Two tickets.’

They discussed the details, including the name of the airfield and the time of the flight, which was to be midnight.

Erik glanced at his watch. It was morning now, so there was more than enough time left. 

‘You sure you wanna do this thing?’ Remy asked after the details had been sorted. ‘An’ that you wanna leave _Monsieur_ Shaw behind?’

‘I’m sure,’ Erik said grimly. ‘And I won’t be leaving Shaw behind. I will simply be biding my time.’

Remy sighed.

‘Well, you know best, _mon cher_ ,’ he said, before hanging up.

Erik slowly drew the phone away from his face and looked at the screen. His hand gripped the phone tightly in his fist. He stood there, silent and unmoving, for an entire minute before he came to his decision. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised the phone and punched in a number, a number that he had made sure to take the night before. Then, his hand shaking, he raised the phone to his right ear.

‘Hello?’ His voice was strained. ‘Hello? Charles, it’s me …’

 

*****

Shaw didn’t answer Emma’s question. He knew perfectly well who Erik was – he was Frankenstein’s monster, Shaw’s first and most beautiful creation. Here, in the blood and flesh on the floor of the house, here was proof of Shaw’s greatest victory … and his greatest failure. Erik had become the beautiful, unstoppable killing machine that Shaw had almost dreamt that he would become … pity, that now it was _him_ that Erik was now hunting for.

‘Little Erik and I go a long way back,’ was all he deigned to tell the others. He then walked forward and pressed two cold fingers to the flesh of Stryker’s bloody corpse. It was still warm. ‘He hasn’t been gone long,’ Shaw announced, stepping resolutely away and wiping his hands off on a curtain. ‘He can’t have got far. Emma, start searching for him. Azazel, you will be taking Emma and I to meet Erik when she finds him. Riptide, you will deal with the scene and handle the policed when they get here. Is that understood?’

The other three nodded. 

After a moment, Emma turned to Shaw and nodded. 

‘Got him,’ she said.

Shaw nodded and grasped hold of her hand, even as she took Azazel’s.

‘Very well then,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and meet the prodigal son.’

With a puff of smoke, they disappeared.

 

*****

Charles was just settling down to read the day’s newspaper when the telephone rang. He started with surprise, wondering just who could be calling at such an early hour. Frowning slightly, he folded the paper and put it away before walking over to the telephone and picking up the receiver.

‘Hello?’ he answered politely.

‘Hello?’ Charles’s spine stiffened. ‘Hello? Charles, it’s me …’

‘ _Erik?_ ’ Charles immediately clutched the phone closer to him. ‘Erik, is that you? I missed you this morning, where did you go?’

‘I had an errand that needed taking care of,’ was Erik’s vague reply. Charles found himself frowning yet again at the strained tone of voice.

‘Erik, are you okay?’ he asked uncertainly. ‘Only … you sound a little off.’

‘I’m fine,’ Erik replied quickly, his voice almost back to normal. ‘Just a sore throat, nothing to worry about.’

‘Oh,’ Charles felt himself relax. ‘Oh okay then. Will I – will I see you again tonight?’ 

There was a pause of the other end of the phone.

Charles instinctively felt himself tense up once more.

‘Charles …’ Erik breathed into the phone. ‘Charles, something has come up.’

Charles’s fingers gripped the phone tightly.

‘Oh.’ He didn’t ask what that something was. Of _course_ Erik had other commitments. Charles was far from stupid, far from naïve. Last night had been a one-off, a bit of fun between the two of them. That was all. 

Just because _Charles_ had felt that it was something more didn’t mean that _Erik_ felt the same way. No matter _what_ had been said the night before. 

After all, Charles thought self-deprecatingly, it wasn’t like Erik was the only person to have ever spouted romantic declarations and made post-coital promises to one-night-stands that he never intended to see again.

‘I have to leave town, Charles.’

Charles bit back a sigh.

‘Of course you do,’ he said, his tone full of false-jollity. ‘I’m sure that magnet salesmen have very little downtime, after all.’

There was a pause, as if Erik was confused by what Charles was saying. Then Erik let out a breath.

‘Charles – Charles, no,’ he said, his voice losing its stiff edge and becoming impossibly warm and soothing. ‘Charles, what I wanted to say was – I need to leave town. But I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to do so alone.’

Silence. Then:

‘Oh,’ Charles said weakly, putting a hand to the wall and leaning against it. ‘Oh. I think I might have to sit down.’

‘Charles?’ Erik’s voice sounded anxious and not a little apprehensive. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes – yes, my friend,’ Charles pulled himself together. ‘Are – perhaps I misunderstood you, so forgive me if I sound particularly unintelligent at the moment, but – Erik, are you saying that you would like me to come away with you when you leave town?’

‘…Yes,’ Erik answered, his tone halfway between being soothing and defensive.

‘I-’ Charles ran his free hand through his hair and looked about him wildly. ‘Well – when are you planning to leave town?’

There was another pause.

‘Tonight?’ Erik’s tone appeared to be more of a question than a statement.

‘ _Tonight?_ ’ Charles gaped. ‘I – what – Erik, I can’t _possibly_ leave tonight! There’s no way that I-’

‘Charles, _please_.’ Erik’s tone was such that Charles was forced to pause. ‘Charles, I – I want you by my side.’

Charles deflated.

‘Yes, yes I know,’ he murmured, cradling the phone receiver closer. ‘But – Erik it’s not that simple. All my things are here, and my home and-’

‘We’ll buy another home,’ Erik said rashly. ‘One that isn’t so gloomy and lonely. We’ll even have a library in there, just for you.’

Charles couldn’t help but let his heart soften at the words.

‘Erik,’ he murmured, reproachfully. ‘That’s all very well, but still – all my things – my _research_ -’

‘Send for them,’ Erik said immediately. ‘We’ll arrange for them to be sent to you. Or we can come back at some point. Take what you need with you now and get the rest later.’

Charles wiped a hand against his forehead.

‘It’s not that simple,’ he said again, his voice going slightly rough. ‘I have _commitments_ , I have-’

‘You have me.’ Erik’s voice was firm and solid. ‘You have me. And I know that we have only known each other for little more than one night, but – I – I … Charles, we _belong_ together, you and I. And you know it. You have nothing holding you back, Charles, just you fears.’

‘I have _Raven_!’ Charles almost shouted, feeling almost angry that Erik could have forgotten that, even though Charles knew that he couldn’t have expected Erik to remember off the top of his head. ‘I have my _sister_ , Erik, don’t you dare think that she counts for nothing!’

Erik was silent for a moment. 

‘I thought you said that she had her own life,’ he said gently, his voice soft. ‘That she didn’t like coming back to the house – that she avoided it as much as possible.’

Charles’s voice almost stuck in his throat.

‘I – yes, yes that’s right.’

‘Then come with me Charles,’ Erik’s voice was low and so very persuasive. ‘You know the only reason that she comes back to the house is for you. If you leave it then you can both be free of it.’

‘I-’ Charles’s voice cracked. He was so, so tempted …

‘You told me last night that you felt that you were holding Raven back,’ Erik’s voice was strong, deep. ‘I don’t think you quite realise how much _she_ has been holding _you_ back as well. Come with me, Charles. For once in your life, do something for yourself. Be _happy_.’

Charles couldn’t bring himself to speak.

‘Charles …’ Erik breathed. ‘Charles, _please_.’

That was all that Charles could take.

‘Yes,’ he answered. He quickly cleared his throat and repeated his answer, louder and more clearly. ‘ _Yes._ ’

There was a quick intake of breath at the other end of the phone.

‘You – you mean it?’ Erik sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

‘I – I think so,’ Charles said, looking around him dazedly. He couldn’t quite believe it himself. ‘I – yes. Yes, I mean it. I – you are right, Erik. I’ve been trapped inside of this house for far too long. I want to go with you. I want to see the world, my friend. I want to see it with you.’

Erik’s gasps of relief were perfectly audible through the telephone receiver.

‘Charles,’ he murmured. ‘Charles, I love you, I know that it must be hard to believe but I cannot help myself, I-’

‘I know,’ Charles said softly, tenderly. Then, because his good sense could not be kept down for long, he asked, ‘Are you _sure_ that we have to leave today? Can’t we – is there no possible way that we can put this off for a bit? Only there is so much that I have to do and it’s hardly feasible to do it all in one single day …’

Erik was quiet on the line and for a moment Charles thought that there was a chance that Erik was relenting. But then:

‘No,’ Erik’s voice was strong and resolute, firm in a way that Charles had not quite heard before. ‘No, I’m sorry Charles but we have to leave tonight. Everything has already been arranged.’

‘Oh,’ Charles frowned. ‘But won’t having me come along spoil everything? I mean, I don’t know where we are going, but wherever it is, I haven’t got a ticket. If your plans have already been booked, then-’

‘I told you Charles, everything has already been arranged,’ Erik said firmly, cutting Charles off. ‘Don’t worry about it. Just pack your things and be ready to leave by nightfall. I will be back in a few hours, there are just some things that I need to do first. Our flight is at midnight, in case you were wondering.’

‘Oh,’ Charles couldn’t help but feel slightly startled and wrong-footed. ‘Oh. Where are we going?’

There was yet another pause at the end of the line.

‘I’ll tell you when I see you,’ Erik said, and Charles could tell that his tone brooked no argument. Erik seemed to realise the same, for he then added, softly, ‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Yes. Right,’ Charles hesitated for a moment, but all his instincts were clawing at him and however much he might feel for Erik, he was, first and foremost, a sensible, rational man. ‘Erik,’ he said hesitantly. ‘Erik – you _would_ tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?’

Silence.

‘Of course,’ Erik said after a moment. ‘Why would you even ask that, Charles?

Charles grimaced and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

‘I don’t know,’ he said quietly. ‘You tell me.’

There was silence once again.

‘Charles,’ Erik’s voice was soft now. ‘I swear to you, there’s nothing wrong. It was always going to happen this way. The – the only thing that I hadn’t counted on was _you_. I never – I never expected to feel this way at _all_ , let alone for someone I just met. I promise you Charles, and you can rely on this – I would never do _anything_ to hurt you. I would much rather leave you behind and never see you again than let anything happen to you.’

Charles, for some reason he couldn’t quite tell, felt strangely reassured by this, even though he knew that there was something that Erik wasn’t quite telling him. Never mind, he thought. He was going to see Erik later that evening anyway. He would ask him then. Or maybe even sometime after that. They had the rest of their lives, after all.

‘Okay,’ he said, making his mind up. ‘Okay. I will be ready. I will see you tonight, Erik.’

‘Yes,’ Charles could tell that Erik was smiling now, his happiness clear even through the telephone. ‘Yes, tonight then. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to it.’

‘Me too,’ Charles said, unable to keep from smiling. ‘Come home soon, Erik.’

‘I will.’

‘And-’ Charles hesitated but something made him say it all the same. ‘And Erik?’

‘Yes, Charles?’

‘Be safe.’

There was a pause.

‘Always,’ Erik responded, his voice tight. ‘Always, Charles. Goodbye.’

_Click._

Charles held onto the phone for a few seconds after Erik had ended the call.

‘Goodbye,’ he said softly, before he too hung up.

 

*****

Erik ended the call and closed his eyes, turning his face up to the sky. Part of him wanted to laugh and crow with relief and happiness at the fact that Charles had actually _agreed_ – that Charles was coming _with_ him, that he felt the same as Erik, and that things were actually going to _work out_.

The other half, however, was filled with bitterness and self-loathing for his selfishness, for lying to Charles, and for dragging him into this whole blood-soaked, sorry business without his even realising it. He couldn’t even deceive himself that he would eventually do the right thing and leave without Charles; he knew that, come this evening, he would be back at Charles’s house, making sure that he was to board that plane right alongside Erik, conscience or no conscience.

Of all the terrible things that Erik had done in his long, terrible life, it was rather strange that _this_ should be the one that his conscience should decide to sit up and take notice of. In the grand scheme of things, lying to Charles wasn’t even a _fraction_ as bad as most of the things he had done.

… But if that was so, then why did he feel so wretched about it?

Erik squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands. He could do this. He was going to do this. All he had to do was clean himself up, calm himself down, and then drive back to Charles. Then they would go and get on a plane together, leave and never come back, free to spend the rest of their lives together. 

His heart finally slowing down, his breath no longer coming in rough pants, Erik unclenched his fists and opened his eyes. Letting go of one long sigh, he smoothed down his shirt and turned around.

And froze.

Shaw smiled down at him, leaning casually against Erik’s battered car, alongside that white, mind-reading bitch and the red teleporting demon.

‘Why if it isn’t young Erik,’ Shaw purred, his feverishly-glinting eyes belying his cool manner. He licked his lips and Erik felt a pit of dread well up inside his stomach. ‘Isn’t this the most _pleasant_ surprise?’


	4. Chapter 4

Erik stood on the gleaming floors a traditional American diner, his fists clenched, his spine rigid, and his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man opposite him.

Shaw’s sudden appearance in front of him had stunned him, taking him by surprise. Despite being momentarily overcome, Erik had quickly shoved aside his shock and had attempted to use the metal of his car to shove a spike right through Shaw’s rotten, black heart. Unfortunately, Shaw had brought his telepath with him and at the instant that Erik had entertained the thought she had mentally reached out and, far from simply freezing him, had shoved her own mental spike at Erik, stabbing into his mind and filling him with a pain that even he had never experienced before, not even during his entire time with Shaw. The moment that thought passed through his head the pain abated slightly, as if the thought had momentarily surprised Shaw’s telepath. Then her presence had vanished altogether and Erik had been left with nothing more than a blinding headache, grey spots across his eyes and the aggravating image of Shaw’s smug, satisfied face in front of him. 

The sight had greatly tempted Erik to try to lash out with his powers once more but before he could attempt to do so there was a tutting sound in his head and he was once more made aware of the telepath’s presence in his mind. 

Shaw had then proceeded to prance around smirking and puffing his chest out in an excruciatingly tiresome manner that Erik had almost forgotten about in the past few years. When Shaw had finally finished his sermonising, he had turned and given a nod to the red demon standing at his side. Erik had snarled when his arm was grabbed and he had tensed his body as the abrupt tugging sensation of teleportation overwhelmed him. Gritting his teeth, he had readied himself for any number of hellish things to happen the moment that they reappeared.

He had blinked, and when he’d opened his eyes, there they were, in a diner.

Erik stared.

Shaw, apparently, was immensely pleased by Erik’s blank stare and very obvious confusion.

‘Surprised?’ he asked, delighted to no end. ‘Baffled by our chosen location? No doubt you thought I was taking you to some nefarious dungeon of torture. Aren’t you glad you were mistaken?’

Erik grunted but didn’t say anything. 

Realising that he would get no acknowledgement from Erik, Shaw turned and nodded at his demon. With a puff of smoke, the mutant disappeared, leaving Erik temporarily taken aback that no one in the diner seemed to have noticed. In fact, no one had paid the slightest bit of attention to them since they had appeared in the middle of the diner, flashy red demon notwithstanding.

‘You have, of course, my gorgeous Emma to thank for the privacy,’ Shaw said smoothly, noticing Erik’s narrowed eyes. ‘I simply can’t go anywhere without her nowadays. Well, not if I want to leave anyone alive, that is.’

Erik glanced around to where the blonde woman had already seated herself in a booth and was now sitting there with a look of intense boredom upon her face.

‘Emma will be here with us for the duration of our interview,’ Shaw explained. ‘It wouldn’t do, after all, to have you take it into your head to bash my head in with one of these quaint little saltshakers.’ Shaw reached over to the table beside them, picked up the small metal box and rattled it in front of Erik’s face. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t even know she’s there. Unless you think about attempting something singularly stupid, that is.’

Erik snarled and his fingers twitched murderously, but a warning pressure on his mind made him release the tension.

Raking his eyes over Shaw, Erik jerked his chin at his head.

‘I suppose that ridiculous thing on your head is telepath-proof?’ he growled.

‘Oh this thing?’ Shaw rapped his knuckles on his helmet. ‘Yes, you’re right. You always _were_ quick, Erik.’

Erik felt a hot flush of rage work through him, remembering why exactly it was that he had _needed_ to be quick. He felt a probing tendril of curiosity from Emma, but he paid no attention to it. There were no defences against a telepath, after all. If she wanted to do something to him, then there was nothing that he could do about it.

‘Wear it often, do you?’ he asked instead, his lips pulling up in a sneer. ‘Don’t trust your own telepath, is that it, Shaw? I don’t blame you – you aren’t really a person who inspires loyalty and trust in his own people.’

Shaw’s features tightened at that and he nodded at Emma, who gave Erik the mental equivalent of a slap on the head, albeit with a scowl on her face. Erik’s observation had not gone unnoticed, then.

‘Sit down,’ Shaw barked, shoving Erik down onto the faux-leather covered seat of a booth a little way away from the one that Emma was sitting in. Erik stiffly settled himself in, his back ramrod straight as Shaw sidled into the opposite seat. Shaw immediately stretched out, a benevolent smile making its way back onto his face, his momentary bad mood and impatience apparently forgotten. ‘There now, isn’t this nice?’

Erik could think of a few words to describe this situation, but _nice_ wasn’t one of them.

‘Come on,’ Shaw said cajolingly. ‘Give us a smile, Erik! I’ll get you a cheeseburger if you play nice. And maybe – if you’re a good boy – you’ll even get dessert!’

Erik let out an almost inhuman growl and – if it weren’t for the Frost woman overseeing things – he was sure that the knives and forks on the nearby tables would have been whisked off and embedded in Shaw’s hateful chest before the man could so much as blink. Angry, Erik threw a poisonous glare at the woman but she just gave him a smirk in return and went back to gazing idly out the window.

Shaw, meanwhile, seemed to think that he had hit on something as, with a benevolent wave of his hand, he summoned the harried waitress over and immediately ordered for both himself and Erik. The sheer presumptuousness of his actions was enough to make Erik forget about Emma and redirect his animosity in the proper place once again. 

There was silence as the waitress finished taking down the orders and walked away.

‘So,’ Shaw said casually, a few minutes later. ‘Who was that you were on the phone to?’

Erik’s spine went rigid. He pressed his lips tightly together and clenched his fists.

Shaw, of course, was watching.

‘Hit a nerve there, did I?’ he asked pleasantly. When Erik didn’t reply he continued. ‘Never mind. I know you, Erik. You’re very protective of the people you care about. That being said-’ He paused as the waitress returned and set two trays in front of them. ‘That being said,’ Shaw continued, nodding at the waitress in thanks before reaching out to grasp both ends of his burger. ‘I’d like to think that you learnt something from our time together, yes?’ He brought the burger up to his mouth and took a large bite out of it, closing his eyes in bliss. ‘Mmm,’ he said happily. ‘Delightful. You should try it, Erik.’

Erik sat there, unmoving.

Shaw continued. 

‘Yes, you will have learnt many things from our time together,’ he said reflectively. ‘And from amongst those precious sessions, I believe, would be the invaluable lesson to not get too attached to things.’

Erik’s nails cut viciously into his palms but he made sure his face didn’t give the slightest detail away. Mentally, he sealed away his thoughts as best he could, even though he knew that his chances of success at shielding against a telepath were next to none. Not every telepath could have the morals and ethics that Ch- no, no, he would not go there, he would not think on that. Not now. Not whilst in such dangerous company.

‘So that begs the question,’ Shaw pulled his eyes away from where he had been coolly examining his nails and turned an inquiring eyebrow on Erik. ‘Just who were you calling when Emma and I found you?’

Erik’s heart was beating increasingly more rapidly. Still, he didn’t show any emotion when he answered.

‘I fail to see how that is any of your business,’ he said coldly, glaring at Shaw.

Shaw’s lips quirked at that.

‘My dear boy,’ he murmured. ‘On the contrary – _everything_ you do is my business.’

Erik sat stiffly in his seat, wishing – not for the first time – that he could kill Shaw with the power of his thoughts. He felt a glimmer of amusement in his head and remembered that yes, such an act _was_ in fact possible, but it was far more likely that _he_ would be the victim rather than Shaw. 

_You’re right about that, Sugar,_ Emma’s cool voice appeared in his head. _But don’t worry – as long as you don’t do anything stupid I’ll lay off the brain attacks._

_Why are you even working for Shaw?_ Erik growled mentally while glaring at the man opposite him. _Don’t you know the kind of monster he is?_

There was a flicker of something on Emma’s end that Erik quickly pounced on.

_You don’t, do you? He’s been hiding behind that helmet of his. Have you **ever** seen him with the helmet off in your presence?_

Before Emma could answer, Shaw spoke again, leaning on his left hand with a considering look in his eyes.

‘You seem remarkably reticent about your acquaintance,’ he remarked conversationally. ‘How very interesting.’

‘I’m not in the habit of giving the names of my friends to a psychopath,’ Erik’s voice was dry but there was rage in his eyes.

Shaw, however, looked delighted.

‘ _Friends!_ ’ he exclaimed. ‘Erik, you have _friends_! And not one, but _multiple_ friends!’

‘It was a figure of speech,’ Erik grunted, careful not to be too hurried in his protestations. ‘Most people don’t consider me the friendly sort.’

‘ _Most_ people,’ Shaw said leaning forward. He stared at Erik for a moment before letting out a short laugh. ‘Don’t worry, Erik, I won’t ask you for their names. I won’t even ask _Emma_ for their names, which would not be an entirely pleasant experience for you, I will have you know. No, I am more interested in the fact that you actually have those that you consider friends. I never thought it of you, Erik. I’m almost impressed.’ He gave Erik a long, almost affectionate look. ‘You _do_ remember what I taught you though, Erik, don’t you?’

‘You taught me a great many things,’ Erik responded calmly. ‘I’m not sure that I care to remember all of them.’

Shaw gave him the look a doting father bestows upon his precocious son. 

‘I should hope you would remember this one,’ he said, a small smile on his lips. ‘I went to so much trouble to teach it to you after all. And if you haven’t learnt it still, then that just makes your dear mother’s death all the more pointless.’

Erik froze. 

The rage, the hatred, the sheer and utter _loathing_ that burst out of him in that moment was enough to taken even Emma by surprise, and before anyone could react, a dozen knives had soared up and flung themselves at Shaw with deadly accuracy.

Shaw had barely enough time to trigger his mutation, causing the metal to bounce off him instead of being embedded within his chest. Even so, one of the knives had had time to get through his defences, grazing him just enough that a thin line of blood welled up from beneath his shirt.

‘Emma!’ Shaw snarled. ‘ _Godammit_ Emma, do your fucking job or I promise I will _replace you_.’

Erik, who had tried to lunge forward after the knives to get his hands on Shaw’s throat, found his body stiff and frozen, moving without his will as he was forced roughly back into his seat. A painful mental jab almost sent his senses reeling. 

_I **told** you,_ came Emma’s cold, furious voice. _Do **not** try my patience. I don’t care if Shaw starts in on your mother, you **stay put**._

Furious and unable to move, Erik viciously shoved his childhood memories of his mother’s final days at Shaw’s hands towards Emma. 

_Shaw started in on my mother a long time ago,_ he said, even his mental voice shaking with barely contained fury. _It’s long past the time that I finally finished it._

There was silence after that and when Emma didn’t respond, Erik turned his attention back to Shaw. 

Shaw, although clearly very irritated by the outburst, had made an effort to slide back into his genial tone.

‘As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted,’ he cast a reproachful look at Erik. ‘One of the most important lessons that I ever taught you was that having ties is a death sentence. I must have told you this a hundred times, Erik, surely you must remember: For a man to succeed in this life he shouldn’t have anything that he can’t walk away from in thirty seconds. Tell me, Erik, how is that working out for you?’

Erik gritted his teeth but kept silent. 

‘I’d always wondered, you know,’ Shaw mused out loud. ‘About what might have happened to you over the years. Whether you were dead or alive. Whether you had grown up, got married, had a family… got a dog. Played baseball at the weekend …’ He huffed out a laugh. ‘I guess I have my answer, now, don’t I?’

‘You expected me to have a normal family?’ Erik appeared calm, unruffled, his voice betraying none of the seething fury that was bubbling under his skin. ‘After all that you put me through? You expected me to have a regular life? Be _normal_?’ he gave a humourless laugh. ‘No, Shaw, I’m afraid that I was far too busy spending all my time chasing after _you_.’

‘And I am _most_ flattered,’ Shaw practically purred. ‘Still,’ he added after a moment. ‘It’s a lonely life. Did you take never take any lovers, Erik? You’re a handsome man – I’m sure there was no lack of offers.’

Erik growled but Shaw ignored him and instead waited, a look of polite patience on his face.

Eventually, Erik sighed. 

‘Someone once told me,’ he said wryly, speaking in a slow, deliberate – but nevertheless venomous – tone. ‘That I should never let myself get attached to anything that I was not willing to walk out on in thirty seconds flat if necessary. For better or worse, the lesson stuck with me. Unfortunately, it didn’t really make things easy when it came to finding long-term lovers.’

Shaw let out a bark of laughter.

‘I’m glad to see that you learned your lessons well,’ he said, pleased. ‘But seriously Erik – surely you aren’t telling me that you’ve been _abstinent_ all these years? What are you, a monk?’

Erik didn’t answer. 

Shaw snorted.

‘I wouldn’t put it past you,’ he murmured amusedly. ‘Always were a dedicated, focused little tyke. Kept your eye on the prize, even after all these years. And you’re perfectly right, of course,’ Shaw’s voice became louder once more. ‘Women are nothing but a distraction. Take Emma, here. Pretty enough, and her telepathy is useful too, but she needs a man’s hand to guide her.’ Shaw smirked and Erik felt a stab of irritation flash through him that was not his own. Emma clearly did not find Shaw’s misogynistic views to her liking. ‘So yes, perhaps you were wise to stay away from women.’

Erik couldn’t keep his mind from flashing to Charles. He may very well have stayed away from women, but he didn’t seem to have had quite the same defences when it came to men. Or, to be precise, _man_. Charles was unique after all.

Mentally cursing, Erik clumsily thrust all thoughts of Charles out of his head. He could not risk Emma becoming aware of him. Instead, he determinedly thought about how much he would like to skewer Shaw on the end of a gigantic toasting fork. 

Shaw was watching Erik closely, his brows drawn together.

‘You know, Erik,’ he said. ‘You have spent almost your entire life tracking me down. Certainly, your whole adult life. And now you have found me. Well – _I_ have found _you_. But the details hardly matter. What I want you to tell me – what I am _really_ dying to know – is this: Was it worth it?’

The answer didn’t even need thinking about.

‘It will be,’ Erik said grimly. ‘Whatever I’ve done, however long it’s been, however long it _will_ be, it’ll be worth it. It _will_.’

‘What if I were to make you an offer?’ Shaw asked suddenly, his eyes intent on Erik’s. ‘Abandon this quest of yours. Abandon it and come and work with me - join me at my side! We would rule over humans and mutants alike. You will be powerful beyond all compare, Erik. Think on it! We could usher in a new age – mutants would be as kings in this world, and you and I – as gods!’

Erik grimaced and looked down at his feet.

‘Your offer is very tempting,’ he said after a moment. ‘Or at least, it _would_ have been, if I didn’t know you as well as I do. The answer is no, Shaw. It will _always_ be no. I wouldn’t ask it again.’

Shaw sighed.

‘You have always been something of a fool, Erik,’ he said almost sadly. ‘A young, brash, sentimental fool. But never mind, I am sure you will realise your folly soon enough.’ He sighed and gave Erik a sideways look. ‘I don’t suppose you would consider just … stopping? Going away, leaving me alone? Just … doing something _else_?’

Erik shook his head.

‘I wouldn’t know how,’ he answered honestly. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t particularly _want_ to do anything else, either.’

Shaw seemed to take this better than expected, merely letting out a deep sigh of regret and turning away.

‘All this for one small death,’ he murmured reflectively, almost wonderingly.

Erik felt his hackles rise. Whatever his mother’s death had been to Shaw, to Erik it had been anything but ‘small’.

But Shaw was still speaking.

‘You know,’ he said slowly, leaning back in his seat and lacing his fingers together in an attitude of thought and reflection. ‘I’ve been around for a long time. Longer than you could possibly imagine. And death becomes such a little thing, when you see so much of it. I have seen people come and go, live and die, and it happens over and over and over again. I’ve watched children grow from babes in their mother’s arms to wizened old men who die from illness or lose the strength to live, becoming shrivelled, husk-like corpses, ruins of what they once were. I dream about them, sometimes,’ he admitted, his eyes staring off into space. Erik had no idea if Shaw even remembered he was in the room, he looked so distant and far away in that moment. ‘They all sit around a table, watching me, always watching …’

‘What else do they do?’ Erik asked, intrigued despite himself.

Shaw shrugged.

‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘They just watch me. As I used to watch them.’ His eyes flickered up at Erik. ‘ _You_ had a great number of dreams as a child,’ he said contemplatively ‘Tell me, do you still suffer from nightmares now?’

Erik did. He was actually somewhat surprised that Shaw had remembered. Although his most frequent dreams had always involved some variation on the theme of Erik taking a hatchet to Shaw’s skull, Erik’s nightmares had always been the most affecting of his dreams. For a long time, he had dreamt solely of the death of his mother, which had caused Erik to dread going to sleep and had thus resulted in chronic insomnia. Nowadays though, Erik had been having a different dream. It had been coming more and more often in the past year, and it was the one that stuck in his mind now.

‘There’s this dream I have,’ he found himself answering Shaw. ‘It’s dark and I’m in the water and I’m swimming after something, swimming the hardest that I have ever swum but I’m still not getting anywhere, I’m still not getting to the place that I need to be. And then I’m drowning. I’m drowning and I’ve got to wake myself up and start breathing or I’ll die in my sleep.’

‘Hmm,’ Shaw nodded, looking pensive. ‘I think we both know what that’s about. Do you get this dream often?’

‘Yes.’

‘And is it always the same?’

‘…Yes.’

Or at least it _had_ been. Almost every night for months … until last night. When the dream had changed, just a little, staying the same right until the end.

Erik had been drowning, bereft and alone in the coldest, darkest depths of the ocean when someone had jumped in after him and pulled him up. Had grasped hold of him and clung on, telling him to _breathe, just breathe_ and to _let go, just let go_.

Charles.

Erik forced his heart to calm. He didn’t know why he hadn’t remembered this dream sooner. What did it mean? What was it telling him? With an iron will, he wrenched his thoughts away from his surprise and confusion and forced himself to concentrate on the present. On Shaw.

‘Interesting,’ Shaw was saying. Then he smiled, and the expression appeared to be actually genuine. ‘I am so glad that we are at last able to have a civil conversation together, Erik. I did so enjoy our little talks together when you were a boy.’

Considering that most of these ‘enjoyable conversations’ had occurred whilst Erik had been undergoing torture of some sort, Erik couldn’t confess to having quite the same fondness for the talks as his old mentor had.

‘Ah, I see you have trouble believing me,’ Shaw shook his head with fake sorrow. ‘It pains me – I have always been almost excessively fond of you, Erik. As a boy, and even now, as a man – even if you _are_ trying to kill me.’ He shook his head and beamed at Erik, as if he were a parent charmed by the outrageous antics of his child. Then he sighed. 

‘Which brings me to my point. You and I have been sitting here, Erik, enjoying a nice meal together and acting all friendly-like –’

_Speak for yourself,_ Erik mentally snarled.

‘But we have to allow ourselves to see the truth – that we are at complete cross-purposes with each other, that there are some things that we just cannot seem to agree on. Mainly about how it is your life’s mission to kill me, while I really quite enjoy being alive, thank you very much. But we are who we are, I suppose, and there’s no changing that. And I like you Erik - I really, honestly, genuinely do. I would have you conquer the world at my side, lead the world into a new era of … but I digress, and I see you have little patience for my plans. So I will give it to you straight. 

‘I like you, Erik, and I am really very impressed by everything you have done to bring you to this moment, to bring us face to face once more. But now we are here, and there is no going back. So now I’m warning you. If we run into each other again for any other reason than you desiring to join me and stand at my side, and if you persist in getting in my way, then I won’t like it, but I will kill you. There’s no way around it. I am exceedingly fond of you, Erik, but if it comes down to me choosing between you and my plans – my entire life’s work – then I’m sorry, son, but you are going down.’

There was a pause as Erik digested this.

Then, after a moment, he spoke.

‘You know, there’s a flipside to that coin,’ he said casually. Then he leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the table and his eyes blazing venomously hot as he stared into Shaw’s eyes. ‘I _do_ want to kill you,’ he hissed. ‘And I _will_ like it. And I won’t care what it takes, but I _will_ bring you down, no matter what the consequences.’

Shaw was watching him and, far from being angry, there was a strangely proud look on his face.

‘Oh my boy,’ he said softly, almost affectionately. ‘I would not expect anything less.’ Then he leaned back and the odd expression was gone, replaced with a casual indifference as Shaw shrugged. ‘And maybe that’s the way it will be. Who can tell? That’s just how it might play out. Or maybe – who knows? – maybe we won’t see each other ever again.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Erik said grimly, eyes skewering Shaw in place.

‘For your sake, my boy, I would,’ Shaw said lightly. Then, taking one last sip of his milkshake, he pushed away the tray in front of him. ‘Ah, that was good. You really should eat, Erik, you need your strength, after all. Now please excuse me for a few moments – I am afraid that I am in need of the little boy’s room. Emma, dear, be so good as to keep an eye on our friend here.’

Emma rose gracefully from where she was seated and sashayed her way over to Erik’s booth, slipping into the seat opposite him even as Shaw moved out.

They were both silent as Shaw made his way across the diner towards the bathrooms.

‘So,’ Emma said casually when the door had swung shut behind Shaw. ‘Who’s Charles?’

Erik’s reaction was immediate. He surged up with a snarl with the intent of throttling that icy-white neck …

Only to freeze and feel himself unable to move from his seat.

Emma was regarding him with a look of wry amusement.

‘I sure seem to have hit upon a nerve there,’ she observed even as Erik snarled and thrashed about viciously within the confines of his own mind, swearing and threatening to dismember Emma in several vicious, graphic ways. Emma frowned. ‘Now, now, there’s no need for that, sugar, I won’t tell Sebastian about your little boy-toy.’

Erik stopped struggling, even though he didn’t believe her. 

‘Your friend,’ Emma continued, her face blank of emotion even as her eyes drilled into Erik. ‘He’s a mutant?’

‘You know he is,’ Erik snarled, unsure what game she was playing here. ‘Haven’t you looked into my mind deeply enough?’

Emma ignored him. 

‘And you care for him?’

Erik didn’t answer.

‘You do,’ Emma answered her own question, a thoughtful pucker forming on her forehead. On anyone else such an expression would be considered cute, but on her it merely seemed like it was an imperfection on an otherwise flawless statue. ‘You can’t understand it and you don’t know why, but you do. More than any other person that you have ever met.’

Erik stayed silent.

‘Does he know what you do?’

A reluctant shake of the head.

‘What _does_ he think?’

Silence. Then:

‘He thinks I’m a salesman. Magnets.’

Something akin to a smile tugged at Emma’s lips but she quickly suppressed it.

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Fitting.’

‘I thought so.’

There was a pause.

Emma’s mouth quirked down and she titled her head to the side.

‘Ask,’ she said with a tired sigh. ‘You may as well get it out of your system while we’re here.’

Erik obliged.

‘Why are you with Shaw?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t you know what kind of man he is? What he is capable of? What he has already _done_? You seem like a rational, intelligent person, Emma. What the heck are you doing with a maniac like Shaw?’

Emma didn’t answer, just stared at him. 

Erik turned away in disgust, unable to keep from remembering his experiences at Shaw’s hands. At the time he had been a forced accomplice, someone who had to do as he was told – however monstrous the orders – just to survive, slowly biding his time before he could escape the demon that Fate had shackled him to. To him, the idea that anyone who knew Shaw would _willingly_ ally themselves with him was unthinkable. The fact that Emma was a telepath made it all the worse. Helmet or no helmet. 

Emma’s expression flickered and she looked as if she were about to open her mouth to respond … when Shaw returned.

‘There you are, my two little pets,’ he crooned. ‘Playing nicely, I hope?’

Emma threw Shaw a vicious look before rising from seat and stalking away.

Shaw gave a dramatic sigh.

‘ _Women,_ ’ he said, giving Erik a look as if to share his grievances. ‘Too hormonal for their own good, am I right?’ 

Erik sat there with a stony expression, unmoving.

Shaw sighed.

‘The things I have to put up with,’ he muttered crossly to himself. He gave himself a shake before turning and giving Erik a warm smile. ‘Well, it’s been fun, Erik. Good of you to catch up with me. I suppose I will be seeing you around then!’ And with a friendly salute, Shaw made to walk off.

Erik stared.

Then, in a second, he was on his feet.

‘Hey – wait!’

Shaw paused and turned round, an eyebrow raised up in polite enquiry.

‘Yes?’ he asked solicitously. ‘Is anything the matter?’

‘That’s it?’ Erik demanded, unbelieving. ‘You’re just going to _leave_?’

Shaw looked surprised.

‘But of course,’ he said, a slight frown on his brow. ‘Of course I am. What did you expect? The food isn’t _that_ great, Erik.’

Erik shook his head impatiently.

‘What about _me_?’ he demanded, clenching his fists. ‘Aren’t you going to do anything about me?’

Shaw gave Erik a reproachful look.

‘Everything has always got to be about _you_ , doesn’t it Erik?’ he said reprovingly. ‘Always need to be at the centre of attention. I would have hoped you would have grown out of that by now.’

Erik, who would have given anything to have never won Shaw’s attention in the first place, seethed under his words. 

Shaw rolled his eyes. 

‘ _No_ , Erik,’ he said almost testily. ‘I’m _not_ going to do anything about you. Not now. We just had _brunch_ together for goodness sakes, I’m not a _barbarian_.’

‘That’s entirely debatable,’ Erik couldn’t stop himself from snapping, even though his mind was abuzz with confusion. Despite all of Shaw’s earlier words he hadn’t actually believed that Shaw would let him go just like that. ‘So that’s all? I can leave?’

‘Well you don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Shaw said with a shrug, clearly bored with the conversation. ‘Stay for a while, finish your meal. I really don’t care, Erik, as long as you stop pestering me with these _tiresome_ questions. Honestly, you’re even worse now than you were as a child.’

Erik stared at him suspiciously.

Shaw rolled his eyes.

‘Oh get away then,’ he said irritably. ‘Go on. Leave.’ He frowned as Erik just stood there, indecisive. ‘Do you _want_ me to change my mind?’

Erik gave a nearby knife a tentative push with his powers, only to be faced with failure and an image of Emma shaking her head in disapproval. 

It was clear then, that the odds were not in Erik’s favour at this time.

‘We will meet again, Shaw,’ Erik promised in a low voice. ‘Soon. I promise you.’

‘I’m happy to hear it,’ Shaw responded with a smile. ‘Now off with you. Go on! Shoo!’

And Erik, with one last look behind him, turned and left, bitterness and hatred afire within his veins.


	5. Chapter 5

It was noon by the time Erik got back to the house. He had left the diner with only one thing in mind and that was to get to Charles, to make sure that Charles was all right. Emma Frost had said that she wouldn’t tell Shaw about him, but meant nothing – the woman worked for _Shaw_ , after all, and a little white lie like that was nothing on the morally grey scale of things that she would have had to do whilst in his employ.

Erik didn’t bother with the doorbell – he was far too much on edge for that. Besides, if there was anyone else in the house besides Charles the last thing he wanted to do was give them a head start. So he silently unlocked the door and let himself in, while simultaneously sending out his power in order to sense whether there were any intruders in the house. It took a few minutes, the mansion being so large, for him to make sure that they were alone and that Charles himself was in one of the sitting rooms in the right wing of the house. Erik immediately made his way there. He needed to check that Charles was okay and that he had not had a last minute change of heart with regards to going away with Erik that night.

He entered the room, and was glad to see that everything seemed to be as normal. The room was positioned so that the door was at the back, presumably so that the occupants were not bothered by the comings and goings of others – said others presumably being the household servants. Charles was sitting in the middle of the room on a large armchair with his eyes focused on the television at the opposite end of the room from where Erik now stood. Erik halted in the doorway for a moment, taking a minute to just look at Charles. He had almost convinced himself that his imagination had sharpened the details of this man, exaggerated them somewhat in his mind, allowing him to take on an almost superhuman quality. While this ethereal quality was somewhat diminished, the overall effect of Charles’s presence on Erik was not. Charles’s skin was still as fine, his lips as red, his movements as graceful as Erik’s memory had painted them. And Erik’s entire being still thrummed with the same need and desire and affection as they had that morning and the night before when they had made love. 

No, he thought to himself, he was not making a mistake here. This was meant to be. There was no way that he was going to lose Charles. He would not let that happen. Not ever.

He stood there, watching Charles intently for a few minutes. A small part of him wondered why Charles was just sitting there and why he had not turned around to greet him with a kiss and a smile. Perhaps he had dampened his telepathy and so could not sense Erik there. Maybe he should cough, or clear his throat. Alert Charles to his presence.

It was as he was debating these things that his eyes fell on the television screen. He glanced at it idly before the screen focused for him and he saw the picture.

His blood froze. 

There, on screen, on the television that Charles was watching, was a news report. And the day’s top story that the news just happened to be reporting right at that moment was the shocking and brutal massacre of the highly decorated retired military commander, William Stryker at his residence earlier that morning. 

Erik’s mouth went dry.

_It’s a coincidence,_ he tried to tell himself. _Charles doesn’t know anything – he **can’t** know. He’s just watching the news, like he probably does every day at this time …_

Erik’s panic seemed to finally alert Charles to his presence.

‘Erik?’ he sat up in his seat and a faint smile made its way over his face. He looked calm and relaxed – the furthest thing away from appearing as if he had just found out that his boyfriend was something akin to a serial killer.

Erik felt himself slowly relax. No, Charles didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Erik was being paranoid – he was worrying for no reason. The news report was just a coincidence; a horrible, rotten coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless. As long as he stayed calm and Charles kept his promise not to dig into his head, then everything would be fine. 

He forced himself to smile as Charles got up from his seat and all but bounded over to where Erik stood still by the doorway. 

‘ _There_ you are!’ Charles beamed, reaching forward to embrace Erik warmly. ‘I’ve been worried, you know – first you disappear on me this morning, then I get that phone call, and now-’ he suddenly stilled. A strange expression came over his face and he took one step back. ‘Erik,’ he said in an odd voice. ‘Erik – what … what is _that_?’

Erik blinked and then glanced down at where Charles was pointing.

Only then did he realise the monumental mistake that he had made. 

While in the diner with Shaw, Emma had shielded the both of them from scrutiny and any outside interest, making them practically invisible to those around them. No one would have noticed anything odd about his appearance. And after that he had been in too much of a rush to get to Charles to either notice other people or come into contact with them. And earlier to the both –

Well, moments before he had been picked up by Shaw he had been busy murdering Stryker and his pathetic little army of human soldiers.

Which was precisely the problem.

He had forgotten that from that moment onwards, he had been almost completely covered in blood. His shirt, his hands, his face … they were all marked with evidence of his actions. Seeing how Erik was obviously unharmed, there could be only one remaining conclusion.

Charles looked down at Erik’s front. Then he looked at his hands. Then, turning, his eyes fell on the still-running television report on the violent murder of a retired military official.

_Immensely unusual injuries,_ the reporter seemed to be saying. _A small army seemingly slaughtered by their own weapons … warped metal … almost humanly impossible …_

There was a moment of stillness. 

Charles turned his head and his eyes met Erik’s.

There was a pause.

Then:

‘Oh god.’

The words were whispered but they hit Erik with the force of a sledgehammer. 

Then again:

‘Oh god. Oh god, no.’

‘Charles …’ Erik began but he wasn’t able to go any further.

‘No.’ Charles was shaking his head furiously, as if the sheer force of his denial would make it all untrue. ‘No, it isn’t. Say it isn’t. It can’t be. Not you. Erik, tell me it’s not you.’

‘Charles, I-’ This would be it. This would be the moment where Erik could deny everything. The moment where he could _explain_ everything. Or make something up. Make _anything_ up. Anything but the truth. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

‘Erik …’ Charles was staring at him, horror and betrayal mixed up inextricably in his eyes. ‘Tell me I’m wrong. Please make it that I’m wrong.’

Erik swallowed.

‘Charles, you’re-’ he attempted. He shook his head. He needed to stop panicking, he needed to think clearly. How was it that he could think clearly while knee-deep in blood, but this – this one domestic situation – made him feel overwhelmed and terrified? ‘Charles, I promise you, it isn’t what you think.’

‘Don’t lie to me,’ Charles’s voice was low and could almost have been taken for calm if it weren’t for the tremor that ran through every note. ‘Erik – _do not lie to me_.’

‘I’m-’ Erik opened his mouth to deny it but before he could, Charles raised his hand to his temple and then there was a brush against his mind and almost immediately – just as Charles had been seeking – images of Erik’s previous night’s activities flooded to the surface.

Charles immediately recoiled, both physically and mentally. He took one look at Erik, before turning around and retching on the floor.

‘Charles!’ Erik said worriedly, forgetting his momentary anger and helplessness at Charles’s violation of his mind. He moved forward to help him but before he could come any nearer he was stopped by Charles holding his arm up, palm forward, even as he was bent over double.

‘N-No,’ Charles gasped, bile still bitter in his throat. ‘Don’t. Don’t come near me. Don’t – don’t touch me.’

Erik could almost feel his heart break. All his hopes, all his dreams – never mind that they had only existed since the day before – he felt them all shatter at Charles’s words, at the repulsion being broadcast from every pore of Charles’s skin. Limply, he dropped his hands and moved a step away.

‘Charles,’ he said, closer to begging than he had ever been at any other point in his life, even during his time at the hands of Shaw. ‘Charles, it isn’t what you think. There is more to the story than that. Stryker was a _bad man_. They _all_ were.’

‘ _All?_ ’ Charles choked, even though he must have known that Stryker hadn’t been the first – not by a long shot. Erik felt a brush against his mind just as Charles let out a horrible, choked laugh. ‘And you’re not even taking into account those poor security men that Stryker kept! _Christ_ Erik – do you even know how many you’ve – you’ve-?’ Unable to finish the sentence, Charles turned around and dry-heaved over the carpet.

Erik remained silent. How else was he supposed to say that he had lost count?

When Charles turned back, his eyes were filled with pain and horror.

‘My god Erik,’ he whispered. ‘You – all this time! And I-’ Erik winced as Charles retched again, though nothing came up.

Neither of them spoke for a good few minutes. They just stood there, Charles bent over, heaving, with Erik standing limp and helpless at his side.

Eventually there was nothing for it, and Erik _had_ to ask, _had_ to somehow break this tension between them.

‘What happens now?’ he asked in a small voice, unable to look at Charles.

Charles glanced up from where he was holding himself. Slowly, eyes never leaving Erik’s, he straightened up.

‘Now,’ he said unflinchingly. ‘If you aren’t planning on killing me as well-’

Erik jerked up, horrified. Before he knew it, he had strode forward and had caught Charles by the arm.

‘I would _never_ ,’ he growled, his face fierce, gazing down at Charles, who hadn’t even flinched at Erik’s sudden approach. ‘I would _never_ hurt you, Charles, _never_. Whatever I may have done – whatever you think of me, you _have_ to know that. Not you. Never you.’

Charles stared up at Erik, unblinking, and after a moment, he nodded.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I believe you. But as for what happens now-’ And Erik had to cringe, for Charles’s voice was so _flat_ , so _cold_ and unemotional. ‘Now you leave. You _leave_ , Erik, and you never contact me ever again. I want you _gone_. _Now!_ ’

It was no more than Erik had been expecting, but he still couldn’t help but try to change Charles’s mind.

‘Charles, please,’ he said softly, pleadingly. ‘I know that you – That what I have – Please, you must allow me to explain.’

‘I owe you nothing,’ Charles said coldly, but Erik could tell that his plea had made a mark.

‘No, you don’t,’ Erik agreed. ‘But _I_ owe _you_ something. I owe you an explanation and you deserve to hear one. You can think whatever you like about me after that, but please – listen to me first. Let me – let me _explain_.’

Charles was silent after that and Erik was left on the most painful of tenterhooks until, at last, Charles gave him one slow nod.

‘Yes,’ he said, his voice low and his expression serious. ‘Yes, all right then. I will listen to your explanation. But after that – unless I say otherwise – I want you to leave. Forever. Do you understand?’

It was clear that Charles was highly sceptical of hearing any explanation that would absolve a person of multiple - of _countless_ \- violent murders, but at this point Erik was willing to take anything that he could get. Even if he had to leave afterwards and never see Charles again, it would be worth it. At least Charles would know _why_ and maybe – someday, in the far, far future – he would find it in his generous heart to forgive Erik. Erik didn’t expect much, but he hoped with all his heart that Charles would one day understand.

‘Yes,’ he said, his voice low and clear. ‘Yes, I understand.’

Charles watched him carefully, before giving him a slow nod.

‘I ask that I be allowed access to your mind while you tell me your story,’ he said quietly. ‘So that I know that what you are telling me is the truth.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Erik said quickly. ‘Anything, Charles.’

Charles looked slightly more at ease at Erik’s easy capitulation.

‘Come then,’ he said, turning and leading Erik over to a pair of armchairs facing one another. He waited until Erik was seated before himself sitting down, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together. ‘Now please. Start your story.’

Erik nodded and swallowed. He had never told anyone any of this before. His heart pounded as he realised that he would have to tell Charles everything – that he would have to _relive_ it as he spoke. He forced himself to calm down. This was _Charles_. And if he had to do all this and more in order to regain some small portion of the man’s trust, then Erik would do it without question.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened up in his chair.

‘I was nearly eleven years of age when I met a man named Klaus Schmidt for the very first time …’

*****

‘Well, Emma,’ Shaw said, brushing down his suit and turning to her. ‘What did you think of our young Master Lehnsherr?’

Emma made no move to answer and merely stood there, tight-lipped and silent.

‘Of course you didn’t see him at his best there,’ Shaw said, tipping his head in acknowledgment. ‘I actually don’t think that being in a pleasant, family-filled diner agreed with him very much. It would, of course, be akin to trapping a wild panther in a nursery full of noisy children.’ Shaw sighed happily at the image.

Emma’s mouth tightened imperceptibly.

‘That being said,’ Shaw continued in a rueful tone. ‘I meant what I told him; I cannot allow him to interfere any longer. He has trespassed on my kindness for long enough, and now he is simply taking advantage of my affection for him.’

Emma barely prevented her lips from turning up in a sneer.

‘So it is that I must now lay out precautions against my little protégé,’ Shaw sighed. ‘I can’t tell you how much I despair of his stubbornness. He always was a headstrong little boy. I don’t see why he can’t just swallow his pride and do what he was always meant to and join me at my side.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Children never do appreciate their parents.’

Emma, who knew exactly what had happened to Erik’s actual parents from her time in his head, said nothing.

‘Now here’s what I want you to do,’ Shaw said abruptly, turning and looking at Emma with a thoughtful glint in his eye. ‘I want you to leak the idea that my location has been compromised. Plant it so that the information spreads quickly but not too suspiciously. Allow it to flow through to the usual channels. Use the location of that pretty little hotel that we stayed in a few weeks ago.’ Shaw allowed himself a smile. ‘I’m sure that Erik’s little mole will cotton onto the news soon enough. And so if dear Erik chooses to ignore my warnings and to come after me - well …’

‘You will be waiting for him,’ Emma finished, sounding supremely unimpressed.

But Shaw shook his head.

‘No, my dear,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid not. I think Azazel and Janos will be able to take care of it for me.’

‘No doubt because you don’t want to raise a hand against your precious former protégé,’ Emma said snidely.

Shaw raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Nonsense, my dear,’ he said coolly. ‘It will be because you and I will have better things to do with our time.’

But Emma shook her head.

‘Maybe you will,’ she said grimly. ‘But I won’t.’

Shaw stared at her, uncomprehending. He was not at all used to being refused.

‘I beg your pardon?’ he asked, frowning.

‘I’ve had enough, Shaw,’ Emma turned to look at him, her spine rigid and her face full of icy determination. ‘I will do this one thing for you, but then I am leaving.’

‘I see,’ Shaw was silent for a moment. ‘May I ask why?’

Emma inclined her head.

‘You may,’ she said. There was a pause. When she next spoke, her voice was perfectly calm but there was a note of _something_ in her expression that surprised Shaw. ‘I found out today that I was completely wrong about you.’

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh?’

‘You are not what I thought you were,’ Emma shook her head. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t see it before – my only excuse is that horrible helmet that you wear. But I saw into that man’s head tonight – your Erik’s.’ Emma’s hands clenched into fists. ‘And it was monstrous. _You_ are monstrous.’

Shaw seemed genuinely shocked by this. Then, after a moment to digest this statement, he started to laugh.

‘Oh my dear,’ he laughed, clutching his stomach. ‘Is _that_ a surprise to you? After all that we have been through together, after all that you have seen me do – _that_ is what surprises you? _That_ is what moves you? A few highly coloured memories in an overly-emotional boy’s head?’ He clucked his tongue. ‘Really, Emma, I had a higher opinion of you than that. Don’t tell me you are turning squeamish on me now. I’m almost offended.’

Emma shook her head. 

‘It’s not squeamishness,’ she said calmly. ‘It’s realisation. I have been a fool. All this time I thought that you genuinely cared for our kind – that what we were doing was for the sake of all mutants. Now – after seeing into Erik’s head – I can tell that that was never your plan. That all you wanted was power and that you will step on anyone who gets in your way, human _or_ mutant, to get it. That’s not what I want Shaw – that was never what I wanted. And now I have come to the realisation that you and I must part ways.’

Shaw was frowning again.

‘I see,’ he said coolly. ‘And what makes you think that I will let you go, just like that?’

‘I want no quarrel with you,’ Emma said evenly. ‘I will not go against you and I will not aid others in doing so. I merely want us to go our separate ways and to have nothing to do with you. That is all.’

‘And I refuse?’ Shaw’s tone was suddenly dangerous.

Emma gave him a scornful look.

‘I hardly think that you will be able to,’ she sniffed. And then, before Shaw could so much as move, she had reached out with her mind and snagged Azazel, forcing him to use his power to appear in front of her. In the time it took for Shaw to blink, Emma had grabbed Azazel’s arm and, with an ironic salute to Shaw, had disappeared in a puff of smoke, gone to god knows where. Shaw knew that, by the time Azazel returned – if he returned at all – he would have no idea what had happened or where he had gone or indeed, any memory that he _had_ gone anywhere at all.

Shaw couldn’t help it. He laughed.

Emma always _had_ had style.

Smiling, he turned around and walked away.

He had plans that needed adjusting.

  
*****   



	6. Chapter 6

Erik’s breath left him in a gust as he finally leaned back in his chair, his story now finished. The ball was in Charles’s court now. There was nothing more that Erik could do, except perhaps apologise some more. Everything now rested on Charles’s response. 

Steeling himself, Erik pulled his eyes away from the wall and glanced over to Charles in order to gauge his reaction.

Charles was in the same position that he had been when Erik had first started his story: sitting straight-backed in his chair, his head tilted forward with his attention solely on Erik, and the tips of his fingers pressed together in his lap. As Erik looked, he saw Charles lean back slightly in his chair and then bring his right leg up and cross it over his left one. His gaze was still on Erik.

Neither of them spoke as each surveyed the other, Charles in quiet contemplation and Erik in silent agitation. Eventually Charles gave a blink and seemed to emerge from his reverie.

‘I’ve listened to everything you have said,’ he began, and Erik felt himself tense in spite of himself. ‘And while there are parts – _huge_ parts – that disgust me and – at times – even frighten me …’ Charles paused. ‘Well, let’s just say that I have given the matter a great deal of thought and despite the _countless_ and _deplorable_ atrocities that you have committed– That is to say, no matter which way I look at it, I … Erik, you _must_ know that I can’t in good conscience bring myself to fully condemn you. Not after what I now know you to have gone through. Not after everything that has gone on between _us_. Not – not now that I know you so completely.’

Erik felt his breath catch. It was a moment before he could speak.

‘You – you forgive me?’ he asked, hardly able to believe his ears.

Charles grimaced at that.

‘I’m not sure that “forgive” is quite the right word,’ he said slowly. ‘After all, it is not _me_ that you have wronged and we have known each other for too short a while for me to charge you with withholding information. But … yes, if you think it necessary. Yes, I forgive you.’

Erik felt his knees buckle. He was thankful to already be sitting down or otherwise he was certain that he would have fallen to his knees.

‘Charles,’ he breathed. ‘Charles you have no idea … I am so sorry to have ever made you feel so - _Charles_!’ he looked up at Charles with an expression of pain and yearning.

Charles hesitated for a moment, but in the end, could not resist Erik’s look of supplication.

‘Oh Erik,’ he said softly and slowly, ever so slowly, he reached out and tentatively ran his hands through Erik’s hair. Erik closed his eyes at the touch and bent his neck so that Charles could feel him better.

They stayed in that position for a while, Erik with his head bent and Charles stroking his hair gently, until the chiming from a clock in the next room roused them. Erik’s head immediately came up and he looked agitatedly at his watch.

‘The time!’ he said, getting to his feet and accidentally dislodging Charles’s arm. ‘Charles, we-’ he swallowed. ‘ _I_ have to go soon. Unless …’ he trailed off helplessly, looking Charles in the eye. An hour ago he would not have dared to hope that this would be possible but now – now that he had been forgiven … Swallowing, he looked Charles deep in the eyes.

Charles was in turmoil.

‘Erik, I-’ he clenched his fists. ‘I’m not sure that this is a good idea,’ he said at last, looking anxiously at Erik. ‘This is just too fast, there is too much that I don’t know, too much that-’

‘You know _me_ Charles,’ Erik interrupted, reaching forward and snagging Charles’s hands in his. ‘You _know_ me. Completely. Is that not enough?’

Still Charles hesitated. 

‘There will be no more, Charles,’ Erik promised, his eyes full of earnestness and sincerity. ‘I swear to you upon my mother’s blood – there will be no more. It ends tonight. When you and I leave, it will be for forever. The past will stay in the past.’

Charles gripped Erik’s hands, still wavering.

‘Look into my mind, Charles,’ Erik said fiercely. ‘Look into my mind and see that I am telling the truth. _Look_ Charles!’

‘Okay!’ Charles said finally, pulling back. He took a long breath to calm himself. ‘Okay,’ he said again. He straightened and, screwing up his courage, looked up at Erik. ‘I will come with you.’

The words had barely left his mouth before Erik had pulled him into his arms again, clasping Charles tightly to his chest.

‘Thank you,’ Erik whispered, clutching Charles’s head closer to his chest. ‘Thank you for believing in me. I swear to you, I will prove myself worthy of your faith every day. I promise you, Charles.’

Charles sniffled slightly, huffing a breath against Erik’s chest before slowly pulling away.

‘There’s no need to swear fealty to me,’ he said after a moment, attempting humour. He gave Erik a wry smile. ‘And it’s not as if I’m working on blind faith alone – I _am_ a telepath, you know.’

Erik chuckled at that.

‘As if I could forget,’ he said softly. Reaching out, he placed one calloused palm against Charles’s soft cheek.

Charles hummed under his breath as he turned in towards Erik’s hand. He sounded almost strangely contented.

‘We’d better start moving,’ Erik said after a moment, pulling his hand away with great reluctance. ‘We don’t have much time. Have you packed at all?’

‘A little,’ Charles said, also pulling away with a sigh. At Erik’s look he rolled his eyes. ‘You _do_ realise that this house contains the whole of my earthly possessions within it, yes? As well as the fact that a few scant hours is _hardly_ enough for me to pack away everything I might need before we leave?’

‘All you would need is the clothes on your back,’ Erik said, stepping closer, right into his space and sending a slight shiver down Charles’s spine. ‘And perhaps not even that much.’

‘You wouldn’t catch me dead outside without at _least_ three layers,’ Charles said with a huff, but he was smiling. The shock and horror of the previous hours seemed to have gradually melted away and though Erik was sure that that conversation with Charles was far from over – and indeed, that it would probably colour the rest of their interactions for the rest of their lives together – for now at least, it seemed to have been relegated to the background. For Erik this was more than enough – the simple knowledge that Charles wouldn’t cast him aside would have sufficed; to have him actually decide to accompany Erik even whilst knowing what he did was more than Erik could have ever hoped for.

Unable to contain the wave of affection that surged up inside him, Erik pushed forward and caught Charles’s mouth in a swift kiss. Charles was at first surprised, but he readily joined in once his brain had caught up with the action.

After a moment Erik reluctantly pulled away.

‘You had better get going,’ he said gruffly. ‘If you want to get all that packing done, that is.’

Charles smiled.

‘I suppose I had,’ he sighed before allowing himself a small smirk. ‘But don’t think that you are getting out of helping me that easily.’ And he tugged Erik over to the stairs with a smile.

By ten o’ clock that night they had the house all packed up and their luggage ready. Everything was neatly boxed and labelled and packed away. Then after a final small supper, with one last look at the house, they were finally off, the car speeding away and leaving the iron gates of Westchester far behind them.

*****

They had been on the road for almost half an hour before Erik decided to break the stilted silence that had pervaded the car for the entire journey.

‘Charles,’ he said, turning his head and risking a look across the steering wheel. When Charles looked up he continued. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked hesitantly. When Charles didn’t answer he felt a small flicker of fear in the pit of his stomach. His heart slowly rising in his throat, he asked, ‘You’re not having second thoughts are you?’

Charles blinked at that and looked up.

‘What? Oh no!’ he shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, my friend – I assure you than I am not.’

Erik relaxed at that, but only minutely.

‘Oh,’ he said, before hesitating. ‘Because it would be all right if you were. I mean – if you don’t actually want to come with me, then-’

Charles placed his hand over Erik’s, halting his words.

‘Erik,’ he said, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘Stop worrying, love. If I didn’t want to be here, then I _wouldn’t_ be here.’

Erik sighed and a tiny smile of relief made its way onto his face. Charles squeezed his hand when he saw it and Erik squeezed back.

And that was when the phone rang.

Both men jumped and simply stared for a moment. Then Erik pulled his hand away and began to clutch around inside his jacket pocket urgently. He didn’t even pretend to pay any attention to the road or the cars in front of him; not for the first time, Erik had cause to be grateful for his control over metal. When his fingers finally grasped hold of the phone he pulled it out and then just sat there, staring at it. 

‘Erik?’ Charles whispered. ‘Who is that?’

Erik’s eyes fell on the flashing screen. There was one name on there, a code name; the name of the only person who had the number:

_Gambit._

Erik felt his heart rate pick up.

It was probably nothing, he reasoned. He was probably just calling to make sure that they were on their way, so that he could say goodbye. 

But if it wasn’t …

His gaze flicked over to Charles, who was watching him with a curious yet trusting expression.

‘It’s my contact,’ he said, his eyes sliding back to the phone. He waited a beat. ‘He’s probably checking to see if everything’s on schedule.’

Charles gave him a tentative smile.

‘You had better get that, then,’ he said softly.

Erik held his eyes for a moment before bringing the phone up to his ear and pressing a button.

‘Remy?’

‘You really need to start paying more attention to your phone, _mon ami_ ,’ Remy’s voice sighed through the receiver. ‘You had me worried there. Again.’

‘Sorry Remy,’ Erik said grimly, using one hand to gently steer the car into the slow lane. ‘But there’s no need to worry. We’re on our way to the airfield now.’

There was a pause.

‘Ah,’ Remy said in a strange tone. ‘Then your _petit ami_ is there with you as well?’

‘Yes,’ Erik answered shortly.

Remy didn’t speak for a moment. When he did, he sounded strangely hesitant.

‘Maybe Remy shouldn’t tell you this then …’

Erik frowned.

‘Tell me what?’ he asked lightly.

Remy hesitated.

‘Start talking Remy,’ Erik said, keeping his tone even so as to not alert Charles to the fact that he was suddenly feeling tense again.

‘Well,’ Remy said slowly. ‘Remy heard a rumour …’

‘Yes?’ 

‘And it appears-’ Remy paused before letting out a sigh of resignation. ‘It seems there is a possibility that we have a fix on the location of one Sebastian Shaw.’

Erik stilled.

Then, after a moment:

‘Say that again.’

A pause.

‘We have an address and positive I.D. on Shaw,’ Remy said and Erik had to close his eyes against the violent surge of emotion that the statement pulled up from his chest.

‘Erik?’ Remy said in a small voice.

Erik gritted his teeth, his eyes still shut. He did not turn to look at Charles – Charles and his wide trusting eyes. He couldn’t.

His mouth dry, he licked his lips.

‘Tell me,’ he whispered.

‘Erik-’

‘ _Tell_ me, Remy.’

There was a pause. Then:

‘ _Green Point Hotel_ , two miles from the airfield,’ was the short reply. 

Erik took a shuddering breath.

‘Thank you.’

‘Erik, _mon cher_ , are you sure-’

‘Goodbye, Remy.’

‘Erik, why don’t we talk-’

_Click._

Erik hung up.

Slowly, he lowered the phone with a trembling hand.

‘Erik?’

He didn’t turn around. 

‘Erik – is everything quite all right?’

Erik let out a breath.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Everything is fine.’ Then: ‘Forgive me.’

And before Charles could open his mouth, Erik had gripped the car’s steering wheel tightly between his hands and yanked it to the left, spinning the car around in an almost impossible curve, accompanied by the sounds of squealing tyres, creaking metal and shrieks and screams and car horns from the vehicles around them. The smell of burning rubber filled the air but strangely, not a single car was damaged; they were, after all, made almost entirely out of metal.

Erik took a moment to ensure that no one had been hurt and that Charles, who was jammed up against the side of the car with a dazed look on his face, was all right. Then, with a fierce jab of his foot down on the accelerator, he sped off, weaving in between the traffic heading in the opposite direction, seamlessly darting in between cars with next to no effort.

‘Erik!’ Charles shouted, his eyes wide, scrambling away from the car’s side. ‘Erik, what the _bloody hell_ are you _doing_?’

‘Sorry Charles,’ Erik gritted out, wrenching the steering wheel one way and then another. ‘I really am sorry. But I have to do this. Just this one last thing and then it’s over.’

Charles stared at him, his eyes widening as realisation set in.

‘You’re going after him,’ he whispered. ‘You’re going after Shaw. Erik – you _can’t_! You _promised_.’

Erik grimaced. 

‘I know,’ he said grimly. ‘And I only hope that you can forgive me. But I just – I _need_ to do this, Charles. Just this one thing and then we’ll leave, okay? We still have hours before the plane leaves – this won’t take long, I promise you.’

But Charles wasn’t at all reassured by this explanation.

‘That’s not the _point_ , Erik!’ he said vehemently. ‘The point is that you said that you would _stop_. That you had put an _end_ to this – this – this life of _murder_ and _vengeance_. You can’t possibly think that I would accept this!’

‘It’s _Shaw_ , Charles,’ Erik bit out. ‘It’s _him_. You _know_ what this means to me!’

Charles couldn’t speak for a moment. He clenched his fists and turned away, unable to look at Erik.

‘All I know is that you made me a promise to leave this life behind you not even two hours ago,’ he said bitterly. ‘And it appears that you could not even be bothered to wait till we had left the country in order to break that promise.’

‘Charles …’ Erik trailed off, pained.

He couldn’t think of what to say. He knew what he was doing was inexcusable in Charles’s eyes and that it might cause everything to come crashing down on him – but _still_ … 

‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said determinedly, setting his jaw and focusing on the road. ‘I’ll deal with this matter and then we will sit down and talk and I will promise you – this time for _certain_ – that I will not fall back on this path again. And then we can catch our plane and leave here – leave this behind us forever.

Charles set his lips together but he didn’t say anything. He merely turned away and looked out of the window.

Erik determinedly pushed any and all feelings of fear and despair back down into his chest. There would be time enough and more to deal with the matter later.

Now, though, he had Shaw to deal with and the _Green Point Hotel_ was looming up right in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Erik tilted the steering wheel and turned in to the driveway.

  
**…**   


‘I will just be a moment,’ Erik said as reassuringly as he could manage, stepping out of the car. ‘This won’t take long. Just – wait for me, okay?’

Charles sat like stone, unmoving.

Erik sighed. Grimacing, he ran his hands through his hair.

‘I’m sorry Charles,’ he said again. Charles still didn’t move. ‘I wanted this to be over so badly, for your sake – and now it will be. Do you understand? After this I’m free. After this I will be able to do absolutely _anything_. And I want to do it all with _you_. You may not yet realise this, but – me doing this now? It’s for the best. This way there’s nothing left unaccounted for.’

When Charles still didn’t respond, he hung his head.

‘I’ll – I’ll be back,’ he said quietly, and turned to leave. Just as he was moving away he was arrested by a voice behind him.

‘Erik.’

Erik’s head whipped back and he turned to see Charles pressed up close to the window of the car.

‘Yes?’ he asked almost breathlessly.

Charles had an odd expression on his face.

‘I – I don’t want you to go alone,’ he stammered, and Erik was suddenly seized with terror that Charles would take it into his head to follow him.

‘Charles, I don’t-’

But Charles spoke over him.

‘I don’t want you to go alone and yet-’ he swallowed. ‘And yet I don’t know if I can be a part of this. A part of what you do.’

Erik sighed – whether out of relief or exasperation he did not know – and leaned forward over the car.

‘It’s okay,’ he said gently, giving Charles a small smile of reassurance. ‘In truth, I’m glad. It’s better that way. I don’t _want_ you to be a part of this, Charles. Truly – I’ve never wanted you anywhere near this ghastly business. I wouldn’t allow you to accompany me even if you _wanted_ to. I’m more than relieved that you don’t. I want you to stay here, where you are safe.’

Charles still didn’t look in the least bit relieved or satisfied, instead frowning down at his hands, miserable.

‘If only you would give this up,’ he said unhappily. ‘Then we wouldn’t have to worry about this. _I_ wouldn’t have to worry.’

‘There’s no _need_ to worry,’ Erik said patiently. ‘Charles, I have done this for almost my entire life. I’ve always been alone. It was always going to be this way – there really is no need to worry. I promise you.’

‘Because you have such a great track record with promises,’ Charles said wryly but he couldn’t help but be slightly reassured. He sighed. ‘All right then, fine. I – I know that there is no way of stopping you, short of going into your head and removing everything that makes you _you_. I accept that. You have to do what you think is necessary and I – I’ll wait for you. We’ll – we will talk about everything else later. And if you run into trouble-’ he paused and looked Erik earnestly in the eyes. ‘I don’t care what happens, but you are to _tell_ me. In your head. Because while I accept that I may be a distraction if I am to go with you _physically_ , even you will not be able to deny that I will be a more than welcome asset _mentally_.’ He tapped his forehead.

Erik stared at him. 

‘Are you sure?’ he asked after a moment, hesitant.

Charles gave a sharp nod.

‘Absolutely,’ he said, not a trace of uncertainty in his tone. ‘You may never have had backup before, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t have it now.’ He turned and looked Erik dead in the eye. ‘I meant what I said last night, Erik: You are not alone. You will _never_ be alone, as long as I am around.’

Erik felt his heart lift at that and he struggled against himself to ignore it; now was not the time for affection and tender feelings.

‘Thank you, Charles,’ he said, and though his voice was quiet, it was infused with feeling. ‘Thank you – for everything.’

‘You’re very welcome,’ Charles said softly. He watched as Erik began to slowly pull away from the side of the car. Just as Erik’s fingers were about to leave the car door, he blurted: ‘And - Erik?’

Erik immediately turned around.

‘Yes?’

Charles swallowed.

‘Just – be safe,’ he said softly. ‘And come back to me.’

Erik paused, before returning to Charles’s side once more.

‘I will,’ he promised in a quiet voice, reaching out to squeeze Charles’s hand. ‘Always.’

Charles nodded.

‘And-’

‘Yes?’

Charles raised his head.

‘I love you,’ he said, his voice low and clear and his eyes serious. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

Erik stared at him before smiling back, soft and slow.

‘Yes, I know,’ he said quietly. ‘And I love you too.’

And with one last squeeze to Charles’s hand, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Charles behind in the seat of his car, waiting for him to return.

  
*****  



	7. Chapter 7

Erik let himself in through the front entrance. There was no point hiding his presence after all, not while Shaw had a telepath on his side.

_You forget,_ said a voice in his mind, jolting him out his reverie. _Sebastian Shaw is not the only one with such friends in high places._

_Can you shield our presence from her?_ Erik asked eagerly.

_Yes,_ was Charles’s answer. A moment later, however, he said, _That’s odd …_

Erik immediately tensed.

_What?_ he demanded.

_I can’t seem to find her._

Erik paused.

_Could she perhaps be hiding herself from you?_ he asked cautiously. _Like you were planning on doing to her?_

Charles’s hum of contemplation reverberated through Erik’s mind. 

_It’s possible,_ he said at last. _But I must say that I doubt it very much. I am rather uniquely talented, you know. And in terms of sheer power … well, even if your Miss Frost outclasses me in talent, I do not think she does in terms of power. Besides,_ he added. _I doubt that she is here. Maybe your information isn’t so reliable, Erik, I can’t find her or your Mister Shaw anywhere in the building._

Erik frowned for a moment before his brow smoothed.

_I wouldn’t worry about that too much,_ he said calmly. _The Frost woman is probably concealing herself from you – no, I am not saying that I doubt your word **or** your skills, Charles, I am merely saying that over-confidence is dangerous – and as for Shaw, he will probably be wearing that helmet of his, protecting him from your powers._

_I suppose,_ Charles gave a mental sigh. _How very rude of him. Not to mention frustrating. This would have been over a lot sooner if it weren’t for that helmet._

_Can you look for anyone in the building who might be associated with Shaw?_ Erik asked. He felt Charles frown before answering.

_I suppose,_ he said dubiously. _But there are a lot of people in here, Erik, and, for the most part, one mind feels almost exactly like – wait!_ Charles’s mind suddenly became more alert. _Mutants! There are other mutants in the building! One moment-_ There was a pause as Charles delved a bit further into the minds that he sensed. _There are a handful of others spread throughout the building but they don’t seem to be any of our concern. The two on the seventh floor, however – they seem to be suspiciously adept at keeping their minds blank._

_Which suggests that they’ve been trained by a telepath,_ Erik voiced their shared conclusion. _I think that we’ve found our target._ And with that, he calmly made his way over to the elevator doors. He didn’t catch the first one that arrived, but instead waited so that he was alone. Once inside he flexed his powers experimentally, causing the walls of the lift to creak ominously about him.

The doors shut and the lift started to slowly crawl up the elevator shaft. The first floor passed … then the second, the third … the fourth, the fifth … the sixth, and then finally, the seventh. With a soft _ding_ the doors opened and Erik stepped out. All traces of the man who had held Charles’s hand mere moments before had disappeared; left in his place was the lethal, bloodthirsty creature that had slaughtered every single man in Colonel Stryker’s compound without the slightest regret.

_Fifth door on the left,_ Charles said silently.

With one last flex of his powers, Erik stalked forward, silent as a ghost, until he was stood directly outside the room in question.

_Be careful,_ was all the Charles said.

Erik nodded before taking a deep breath.

Then he smashed the door in.

 

**…**

 

The men – _mutants_ , rather – inside the apartment leapt to their feet, stunned. Clearly they hadn’t been expecting to have company – at least, not so soon.

‘Shaw,’ Erik growled, after having glanced around and concluded that his target was nowhere in sight. ‘Where is Sebastian Shaw?’

One of the men – Azazel, if Erik remembered correctly, the devilish-looking one that had the power of teleportation – said something unintelligible in Russian before suddenly disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Erik was ready for that, however, and he immediately pressed himself against the wall so that Azazel couldn’t get the drop on him. The moment he reappeared at Erik’s side, Erik flung a metal railing at him, having already grasped it firmly with his powers. Azazel was forced to immediately teleport again, disappearing just as the metal speared through the space where he had been before. 

But Erik had no time to relax; the moment Azazel disappeared he was faced with what appeared to be a miniature tornado which, for all that it was small, did not lack for power. Glancing up sharply, Erik saw the other man – a Spaniard, perhaps, with long black hair that whipped around his head with each gust of wind – with the tail of the tornado threaded through his hands. 

Grimacing, Erik threw himself out of the way even as the whirlwind seemed to charge at the spot where he had just been. He let out a grunt as his shoulder cracked against the wall, but he ignored it; he had dealt with much, much worse, after all. Quickly scrambling up, he clenched his fists and gave an almighty pull. The walls around the Spaniard instantly burst as a series of pipes and wires shoved their way through and started to coil around the mutant’s body. The man immediately let out a cry and, distracted, started to try and dodge the constricting metal, his whirlwind quickly dying down to nothing more than a mild breeze. 

Somewhere off in the corridor the fire alarm started to blare and the noise swelled as dozens of people started swarming out of the doors, too eager to get out of the building to even notice what was going on in one of the rooms.

Azazel chose that moment to return and before he knew it, Erik was flung backwards into the wall, his stomach sorely bruised from the force of the kick that had sent him flying. Before he could even clamber to his feet he was picked up once again and flung against the other wall, his skull slamming against it with an agonizing crack. His head swimming, Erik groaned and tried to pull himself up. His head thrummed painfully. The blare of the fire alarm didn’t help either.

_Should have worn a helmet,_ he found himself thinking almost nonsensically.

_Erik!_

Erik shook his head, trying to clear it. Through the dust caused by the shattering walls and the destruction from the tornado, Erik could see Azazel loom up in front of him, his devil-like appearance suddenly all the more fearsome. 

_Erik!_

Struggling, Erik tried to pull himself up, only to be wracked by a sudden bolt of pain. Grimacing, he looked up at the man approaching him.

_ERIK!!_

Erik blinked. Then he suddenly remembered – he was not actually alone.

_Charles!_ he mentally shouted. _I need you._

That was all that it took. One moment Azazel was moving towards Erik with a chilling sense of purpose; the next he stood stock-still, frozen as if he were a statue.

_Thanks,_ Erik nodded, coughing as he slowly drew himself up, wincing at the pain in his head and back.

_No problem,_ Charles replied grimly. _It seems that our friend here had had quite enough of throwing you through walls; his next attempt would have been to fling you off the top of the building._

Erik grimaced at that, suddenly even more thankful for Charles’s timely intervention.

_Thank you,_ he said again. _Truly, Charles. Thank you._

_Yes, well,_ Charles’s mental voice was almost embarrassed. _Any time. Now, you may want to take a look at our wind-controlling friend over there – he seems to have made some headway with your little snare. **Fascinating** mutation, by the way, being able to control the wind. I wonder if he is able to do it on a larger sca-_

_Not now Charles,_ Erik said impatiently, reaching out with his powers and pulling the mass of metal encircling the other mutant tighter. The man swore and immediately began struggling again, where before he had been slyly and silently trying to extricate himself from the metal prison.

Once that was done and the man was well and truly trapped, his arms pinned at his sides, Erik strode forward.

‘Shaw,’ he barked, coming to a stop just in front of the man. ‘Where is he?’

The Spaniard stopped struggling and instead turned to look at Erik with an expression of the deepest scorn on his face. 

‘ _Bésame el culo,_ ’ he sneered, before turning and spitting – as best he could – at Erik’s feet.

Face completely blank, Erik brought his hand up and swiftly decked the Spaniard across the face with his fist.

‘Where. Is. Shaw?’ he repeated, his teeth gritted and his eyes fierce.

The other man, sagging against the metal that was holding him up, merely looked up at Erik and grinned even as a trickle of blood escaped his lips.

‘ _Tu madre es un puta,_ ’ he whispered defiantly, grimacing as the movement of his lips sparked a shock of pain through the side of his face.

Erik stilled. 

His eyes narrowed.

Then, in the time it took to so much as blink, Erik had caught hold of the Spaniard’s mass of black hair and, seizing it, jerked it back violently, just as one of the metal arms encasing the man suddenly split off and, raising itself, seemed to sharpen into the shape of a deadly blade, the point of which rested less than a hair’s breadth away from the Spaniard’s throat.

The man’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in panic as he tried to suppress his natural instincts to struggle in case it caused the blade to cut into his neck. Panting wildly, he tried to calm himself, his wide, terrified eyes not moving an inch away from the blade at his throat.

‘Now,’ Erik said silkily, leaning forward with a terrifying, teeth-baring smile. ‘I will ask you one more time. Where. Is. Shaw?’

At that moment there was something akin to a roar within his mind and Erik suddenly became aware that Charles had been hollering at him for the past thirty seconds.

_Erik!_ he cried. _What are you **doing**?_

Erik grimaced and remembered why he hadn’t wanted Charles to be here with him for this, backup or not.

_What I have to, Charles,_ he said grimly. _Now stay out of my head. I don’t want you to see this._

_No – Erik wait!_ Charles’s voice immediately pushed through, sounding panicked. _Don’t do this, Erik – be the better man!_

Erik growled. The Spaniard was watching him now, completely uncomprehending and all the more terrified for it.

_This is **Shaw** we’re talking about, Charles,_ he snarled. _While he is out there I have no choice but to be the sort of man that I am. You don’t know what he’s done, or you would understand. If I have to be the lesser man to get what I need, then so be it._

_But it doesn’t have to **be** this way!_ Charles said desperately. _You’re not **alone** anymore, Erik. You have  >strong>me with you. Let me do this for you, Erik. Let me get the information that you need. ___

Erik paused, on the edge of protest, before slumping.

_Okay, Charles,_ he said resignedly, knowing that Charles’s way was inarguably the better option. _Do it then._

_Thank you, my friend,_ came the soft brush of Charles’s thoughts before his presence all but disappeared from Erik’s mind.

Erik watched as the Spaniard’s eyes suddenly widened before relaxing a little, his eyelids drooping slightly as Charles rifled through his mind.

A moment later he was back in Erik’s head.

_Done so soon?_ Erik murmured.

_The brain works unbelievably fast,_ Charles explained coolly. _And I am more skilled than most when it comes to navigating it._

_Well?_ Erik asked, unable to conceal the thread of impatience in his mental voice. _What did you find out?_

_His name is Janos,_ Charles said immediately. _And his power is truly remarkable, Erik, but I won’t bore you about that now. He does have some idea of where your Mr. Shaw will be –_ and here Charles fed Erik the address that had been printed in Janos’s mind – _but he can’t guarantee that Shaw will be there now. Apparently he’s a very busy man._

_So I gather,_ Erik said darkly. _Well, Charles-_

_Wait, Erik, there’s more,_ Charles seemed to hesitate. At Erik’s pause, however, he continued. _This man – this **mutant** – Janos; he’s like you._ Erik stiffened at that but Charles went on. _He was just a **boy** , Erik – so young when Shaw first found him. He didn’t have anyone in the world and then Shaw suddenly came for him out of the blue. It’s the same for Azazel too – the other mutant – only worse. You won’t believe what he had to deal with as a child._

_Oh, I can believe it,_ Erik said grimly. _What’s your point?_

_My **point** ,_ Erik, Charles said gently. _Is that these men are in need of **mercy**. It’s not their fault that they are the way they are. I can even see evidence of another telepath’s handiwork on them – a Miss Frost, I believe. They are as much victims of circumstance as you are, Erik. Don’t punish them for that._

Erik let out a noise of deepest irritation.

_Then what do you suggest we do with them?_ he snapped, feeling distinctly off-kilter. Two days ago these men would have already been dead by now. Instead, here he was, feeling the dark burn of sympathy and – dare he say it – kinship for these men. Even without his telepathy Charles had a way of rewriting almost everything that Erik knew and was sure of, taking it all and tearing it into a thousand tiny little confusing pieces and then rearranging it in a way that Erik had never so much as contemplated before. It was breathtaking – and a little frightening.

_Let me deal with them,_ Charles said, his voice calm. _I can – I can alter their memories. Make it so that they think they never met Shaw. Make them want to have different lives. **Better** lives._

_You can do that?_ Erik asked incredulously, feeling slightly awed.

He felt the twist of unease in Charles’s mind.

_Yes,_ came the short reply. _But I very much prefer not to._

Erik decided not to press any further on that topic. Not then, at any rate. It was hardly the time or the place, after all.

_Do it,_ he said decisively. _Give them a chance to do better for themselves._

This time he shut his eyes as Charles left him, and lowered his head, an odd pang crossing through his heart. Would it ever be so easy for _him_ to change his life around, he wondered almost regretfully.

Then Charles appeared back in his mind, pushing all other melancholy thoughts away.

_Done,_ Charles said, sounding relieved. _They’ll stay frozen for another minute and then, when we’ve gone, Azazel will take Janos and teleport out of here. They’ll wake up on some pretty, idyllic beach somewhere and none of this will have happened. They will start afresh, somewhere new._

Erik let out a sigh and nodded.

_Good,_ he said. _Now let’s get going._

And with a turn of his heel, he started to walk away from the hotel room, leaving the dust and destruction behind him.

 

*****

 

The hotel corridors were mostly empty by the time that Erik started to make his way out of the hotel, casually dusting himself off to remove any remnants of the plaster and dust that had been dislodged by the imploding walls.

_Your route is clear,_ Charles murmured into his head. _And the front entrance of the hotel is as well, for the most part – don’t worry about the few that remain, I will take care of them. All the guests are huddled over around the back at the designated evacuation point, so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting back to me._

Erik allowed himself a smile at that and subtly sped up his walk, eager to get back to Charles.

_Listen, Charles,_ he said hesitantly. _About Shaw-_

_I know, my friend,_ Charles interrupted before Erik could continue. _You need to go after him._

Erik’s breath caught.

_Then you – then you understand?_ he questioned, hardly allowing himself to believe it. _You understand why this must be done?_

He heard Charles let out a mental sigh.

_I understand why **you** must do this,_ he said carefully. _And-_ he hesitated. _And after seeing what I did within the minds of those two mutants – I must say that you are right._ Erik blinked in surprise. _This man – this Shaw – he is dangerous. He needs to be stopped._

Erik felt his heart swell.

_Thank you, Charles,_ he said warmly. _Thank you for understanding. This will not take long, I swear it. It will take a week at most and then after that I will return to you and we can do anything and go anywhere that you please._

_We should be able to do that sooner than you expect, I should hope,_ Charles said crisply. _After all, I plan to come with you._

Erik immediately slid to a stop.

_What?_ he demanded, frowning.

He could almost see Charles roll his eyes.

_Honestly, Erik, did you really expect me to let you go alone after seeing everything that happened today?_ Charles asked patiently. _Erik, you were almost **killed** – several times. I shudder to think what would have happened had I not been there._

_I would have been able to take care of myself!_ Erik growled, striding forward with irritation and quickly exiting through the door leading to the stairwell. _As I have **always** done. You are not coming with me, Charles, and that is final._

_You won’t be able to stop me,_ Charles said lightly, obviously not paying a sliver of attention to Erik’s annoyance. _I’m in this now, Erik, for better or for worse. We’re a team, you and I. And I meant what I said – you are not alone, and you never will be._

Erik swallowed at that, but he shook his head stubbornly.

_I won’t have you put yourself in danger for me,_ he said fiercely. _This is not your fight._

There was a pause.

_Oh my friend,_ Charles said softly. _But don’t you see – it is. The moment you entered my life and caused me to fall for you it **became** my fight. Now that I have you I don’t intend to lose you quite so soon, you know._

Erik growled, frustrated.

_We’ll discuss this more in person,_ he grumbled, coming to the end of the stairs and finally exiting into the lobby of the hotel. _I want you to **see** how very much I dislike your plan._

_Suits me fine,_ Charles said, sounding remarkably cheerful for someone who had just helped subdue two mutants in the midst of a violent altercation and was then planning on swanning off with his new lover of less than two days in order to take on said lover’s long-time nemesis.

_You’re impossible,_ Erik grumbled, but couldn’t help the undercurrent on fondness that leaked through the connection between them.

_Coming from you, darling, that’s quite the compliment,_ Charles returned smugly.

Smiling, Erik exited the hotel and tripped down the stone steps, his eyes already fixed on the car across the road where he could see Charles waiting for him inside. Charles turned as Erik came nearer, a broad, warm smile on his lips in welcome.

Just as Erik was about to cross the road over to Charles, the back of his neck started prickling. Erik hadn’t come so far or stayed alive for so long without listening to his gut feeling and, with his sixth sense currently screaming at him to pay attention, he glanced up to look to his right, towards the other end of the street.

His blood ran cold.

There, standing at the top of the road where the drive to the hotel began, was none other than the one man that Erik hated the most in the world: Sebastian Shaw.

For a moment Erik could hardly breathe.

Then his eyes slipped from where Shaw was standing, over to where Charles was sitting in the car, eyes turned on Erik full of warmth and welcome.

Erik felt his heart squeeze tightly, time frozen as for the longest moment he just seemed to stand there. He couldn’t have been more still even if Charles had used his powers to freeze him in place.

The wind suddenly picked up, blowing coldly through his clothes and chilling him further yet still he stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away from Charles’s shining face, his own eyes filling with regret and despair.

Charles’s warm, beaming smile began to falter.

_Erik?_ Charles’s anxious voice appeared in his mind.

Erik just stared at him.

_Erik, is everything alright?_ Charles sounded uneasy, as if he knew that something was awry. He made an effort to search Erik’s mind but Erik quickly shut him down, pushing him away. _Erik?_ Charles suddenly sounded urgent.

Erik looked into his face – his wonderful, beautiful face – and tried to steel himself.

_Charles-_ he said, and even his mental voice was hoarse and full of despair. _Charles – I am so sorry._

Charles, his eyes wide, stared back at him.

_Erik, **what** – I **demand** \- _

Swallowing, Erik used his powers to fuse the car doors shut, so that should he try, Charles would not be able to get out of the car to follow him.

_Charles,_ he whispered. _I love you._

Charles paused from where he was trying to shove open the door and stared up at Erik, his eyes suddenly full of the awful knowledge of what Erik was about to do.

_Erik – Erik, no, don’t do this, we can-_

Erik closed his eyes.

_Goodbye Charles,_ he said and, severing the connection between them, he turned his eyes away from Charles’s face, swivelled to the left, and began to run.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the Spanish: 
> 
>  
> 
> Bésame el culo - Kiss my ass
> 
> Tu madre es un puta - Your mother is a whore
> 
>  
> 
> I don't actually know Spanish so apologies if the phrases were incorrect. Any corrections are welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written in chunks over a long period of time so apologies in advance if the flow is a tad off.

Erik panted roughly as he hurried away, not risking looking back. He didn’t want to see Shaw – he knew he would be following him – and he certainly didn’t want to see Charles. If he saw his face again – if he saw that look of desolation and hurt and despair – then he would lose his resolve and he would end up crawling back to Charles, desperate for a piece of him to keep, and Erik couldn’t do that. He _wouldn’t_ do that. Not to Charles. Charles who deserved so much better than Erik. Charles who deserved to spend his life free and safe from danger. Charles who mustn’t be brought to the attention of the man who was now trailing after Erik with one sole, deadly purpose in mind.

Erik shuddered and sped up his pace.

He needed to get Shaw as far away from Charles as was possible. That was the only thought that he allowed to run through his head. It was all that mattered; his pain and his own chances of survival were secondary.

The possibility that Shaw had already noticed Charles didn’t concern Erik overmuch. Although his and Charles’s farewell had seemed to last a lifetime, in reality it had only been seconds. Erik tried not to be bitter; at least he had been able to say goodbye. That counted for _something_ , at least. He hoped it did, at any rate. Not that he ever expected Charles to forgive him for this. 

He sighed at that thought and hobbled on as quickly as he could. At least his mind could be at peace on that score. His leaving had spared Charles from being involved in things that he should never have encountered in the first place. Now Charles wouldn’t be involved in his fight against Shaw. 

Now he wouldn’t have to see Erik die.

For Erik was under no illusions about why Shaw had showed up, or about his own chances of defeating Shaw. He was still banged up and sore from his altercation with Azazel and Janos – and had that really only occurred five minutes ago, it felt like five _days_ – and he was still reeling from having been forced to abandon Charles. To sum up, he was not at all at his best and the likelihood of his surviving this confrontation was slim to none.

Still he hurried on. He knew he wouldn’t make it far but the further away he was from Charles when Shaw eventually caught up to him then the better. 

It was hard going. It was dark and he was unfamiliar with his surroundings – it was perhaps the last situation that he would have chosen for his final confrontation with Shaw. Grunting, Erik sped up his shambling gait, using his powers to navigate a way in the pitch blackness. 

It was only some minutes later, when finding himself outside the gates of what appeared to be a scrap-heap, that Erik realised that he had been following his powers towards the most defensible location that he could find; that is to say, towards the area with the most metal around it. Casting a grim glance over the scrapped-metal heaped in piles beyond the fence, Erik steeled his jaw and braced himself. Holding out a stiff arm, he scowled in concentration as the edges of the metal fence slowly pulled back. When he had finally made a big enough gap, he stepped through, pausing only briefly to reseal the entrance before taking off in a swift jog towards the centre of the scrap-yard. That, he couldn’t help feeling, was the best place to face what would happen next.

Panting slightly, Erik finally brought himself to a crouch between the broken fenders of two cars and braced himself against their sides, taking comfort in the feeling of metal under his fingertips. Gradually, he got his breathing back under control until he was once again calm. He was resigned now: his confrontation with Shaw was going to happen now whether he wanted it or not, regardless of his own physical condition or state of mind. But that was all unimportant. Only two things mattered now: that he was finally going to kill Shaw or die trying, as he had promised himself all those years ago, and that Charles was safe, kept far away from the poison of Erik’s past. 

He didn’t regret his actions: by leaving Charles he had only done what he should have a long time ago, before he got so emotionally involved with him. Things were better this way.

Forcibly pushing all further thoughts of Charles aside, Erik pushed his powers out to reach around him. The feel of all the metal surrounding him was soothing, encouraging. Erik couldn’t help but feel stronger for it. In truth, he couldn’t have picked a better spot for meeting Shaw even if he had planned ahead. Pushing out even further, Erik extended his reach as far as possible. He sensed the edges of the scrap yard, the metal of the fence, the pile of car doors that had been dumped together, the various battered and banged-up cars that were piled one on top of the other after that, the broken-down refrigerators and washing machines further in, the scrapped-car graveyard that was surrounding him, the rounded metal shape hovering just feet away …

Erik froze.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he straightened up from his crouch and, his body almost trembling with tension, turned around.

‘Hello Erik,’ Shaw smiled, standing mere feet away, that awful helmet placed securely upon his head. ‘Am I early?’

The wind blew coldly around them as they regarded each other, its howl eerie and ominous in the dark night.

Erik swallowed and forced himself to speak.

‘No,’ he said, his shoulders relaxing and his voice strangely calm. ‘No, you are not.’ And with that, he reached out with his powers and _squeezed_.

*****

Charles shoved against the car door for what had to be the hundredth time in the past five minutes, his face red with frustration. All his exertions were for naught; however hard he tried he could not get out of the car. Erik had done far too good a job of sealing him in, it seemed.

Grimacing, Charles turned around. He had tried each of the car doors in succession, even clambering ungracefully into the back of the car, but with no success. Erik had sealed all of the car doors, effectively trapping Charles inside. Sighing, Charles ran a hand through his hair. There was only one thing for it.

Carefully pulling off his jacket, Charles then proceeded to wrap it carefully around his right arm. Then, grimacing, he shuffled over to the left of the car before bringing his right foot up.

‘Here goes nothing,’ he muttered, before angling his foot and shoving it through the glass of the window.

The sound of the _smash_ made him cringe and he was glad that he had covered his face with his jacket-protected arm when, upon moving, he saw the slivers of glass fall from his arm to the ground. Grunting, he then reached out with the same arm and quickly proceeded to push away the remaining glass stuck in the window, clearing it away as quickly and efficiently as possible, hoping all the while that no one had heard the smash and would come to investigate. He was sure that he could handle it but right now he really didn’t care to; there were far more important things on his mind. Erik, for instance.

Having finally cleared the remaining glass from the window, he gingerly stuck his head through and then, with a great deal of wiggling and muffled cursing, passed the rest of his body through the gap. He cursed a great deal louder when he finally fell through the window, collapsing on his front and skinning his palms on the hard, dry ground. However, he was far too relieved to have finally escaped his metal prison to feel put out for too long; a moment later and he was back on his feet, dusting himself off and glancing around. Seeing nobody in the vicinity, he finally straightened up with a sigh.

Erik had taken off away from the road, turning sharply away from the main track and heading away from the lights. Charles’s jaw tightened grimly. He had seen Erik’s face and – more importantly – he had been in Erik’s mind, if only briefly, before he’d been expelled from it. He knew that Erik had been frightened – more than that, _terrified_ , and that the vast majority of that fear was not for himself but for Charles. He had left because of Charles, gone off away from people and _safety_ because of _Charles_. 

Charles let out a breath. He couldn’t let Erik go after that. Not that he had actually ever planned to but Erik’s actions had made his resolve all that much firmer. 

Erik had seen Shaw. That much was certain. It could be no one else. Charles was only connecting the dots now, having been too surprised and panicked to have realised it when faced with Erik’s parting words. He cursed himself now for not having looked around, for not having seen Shaw for himself, for having not _done_ something when he had the chance. Now Erik was all alone, god knows where, probably fighting for his life against a certified maniac –

Charles clenched his fists. He took another glance around him. There was still no one there. He shut his eyes briefly and breathed in the cold night air.

Then, with a grim smile, he turned and ran, following on the footsteps of the man he loved and hoping desperately that he would still be in time.

*****

Erik reached out with his powers and squeezed, only to jerk back with surprise when nothing happened.

He was broken out of his stupefaction by the sound of Shaw’s cold, delighted laugh rising up though the air.

‘Oh Erik,’ Shaw laughed, wiping away a tear from his eyes in apparent mirth. ‘Oh my dear boy – you didn’t think that I didn’t take more than one precaution in having this helmet created, did you?’ He laughed again and reached up to knock on his helmeted head with one hand, allowing the sound to ring out across the yard. ‘It’s metal, yes,’ he said. ‘But a _special_ bit of metal nonetheless. Not only is it completely resistant to telepathy but it’s also immune to magnetism and magnetic fields. _Fascinating_ , isn’t it?’

Erik merely growled in response. 

‘Yes, I thought you might take it that way,’ Shaw sighed. ‘It’s nothing _personal_ , Erik, it’s merely that a man in my position can’t take too many risks. You understand, don’t you?’ And he really did look genuinely concerned that Erik might not understand his motivations.

‘What do you care if I understand or not?’ Erik growled. Shaw’s lack of concern for his own survival irked him more than he would like to say. ‘It can’t really matter to you, not now.’

Shaw looked almost hurt at that accusation.

‘Erik, my boy,’ he chided, opening his arms in a mockery of welcome. ‘How can you say such a thing? You know how _devoted_ I am to you. I _know_ you, Erik; and that’s why I staged this little meeting tonight. Because I knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t be able to resist coming after me again even after I had warned you to leave well enough alone.’

‘This was a set up,’ Erik stated flatly. He had already guessed as much, but it was nice to have his suspicions confirmed. ‘You set this up to bring me here and now you plan to kill me.’

Shaw gave Erik an innocent, wide-eyed look. It didn’t suit his features at all.

‘Kill you?’ he repeated. ‘Oh Erik – no! Well,’ he amended. ‘If I have to, then yes, but that was not my primary purpose. I lured you here to give you one more chance.’ He held out his hand towards Erik. ‘Come with me, my son. Leave this petty grudge aside and follow me. Take my hand and I shall lead you into greatness!’

Erik stared at the proffered hand blankly for a moment before raising his head.

‘Petty?’ he repeated slowly. He cleared his throat and then said it again. ‘ _Petty?_ ’ His hands clenched as his rage was once again refuelled, anger and hatred leeching into his words. ‘You _murdered my mother_ , Shaw. There is _nothing_ petty about this!’

Shaw sighed at that and lowered his hand.

‘I take it that you are refusing me again,’ he said sadly. ‘Well, no one can say that I didn’t try.’ He sighed and then gestured at Erik. ‘Come on then. Let’s get this over and done with.’

Erik quirked an eyebrow.

‘Let’s,’ he replied calmly, before grasping hold of a large, heavy wreck of a car and flinging it towards Shaw. 

To Erik’s surprise, Shaw didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch. All he did was brace himself and smile before the heavy vehicle smashed into him, dealing him what was likely a mortal blow.

Erik didn’t move for a moment. His body was still tense, still flooded with adrenaline. As the seconds passed, however, he slowly began to relax, his heart rate slowly lowering.

He was just about to bring himself to approach the wreckage when the vehicle suddenly began to move. Erik paused, staring, his body taut once more. As he watched the whole car was shoved aside sharply and there, once again, stood Sebastian Shaw, looking for all the world as if he had just stepped out of a spa. Far from being smashed into a bloody pulp he actually looked … _refreshed_.

‘Your power,’ Erik said, his mouth dry, everything suddenly falling into place. ‘This – your power, the reason you’re still alive even now – that’s your mutation.’

Shaw smiled at that.

‘Surprise!’ he beamed, waving his hands as if backed up by a jazz orchestra. ‘Isn’t this lovely? You never _were_ sure about whether or not I was like you, were you Erik? Now you see that we have even more in common than you thought!’

‘This doesn’t make me any more interested in joining you,’ Erik snarled, balling his fists and trying to subdue the panic that was now rising deep inside his mind. ‘And I’d always suspected. There was no other way – you couldn’t otherwise …’ he trailed off, shaking his head.

Shaw, however, nodded understandingly.

‘Yes,’ he said, his tone laced with sympathy. ‘You always were a bright boy, of course. That was one of my little games, you know. I’d only rarely use my powers around you when you were a boy – I wanted to see whether you would put two and two together at any point. Besides,’ he smiled. ‘It’s always good to have an ace up one’s sleeve.’ He grinned, baring his shiny, pointy teeth before glancing up almost coyly at Erik. ‘No doubt you are wondering what exactly my powers are …’ he said demurely.

Erik grunted. 

‘I know enough,’ he sneered, knowing that this would only encourage Shaw to reveal more. ‘I know that strength and brute force seem to have no effect on you. I know you do not age as normal people do.’

Shaw smiled.

‘Very good,’ he praised. ‘Although I must object to your use of “normal people” as a base of comparison. There is nothing _normal_ about _us_ , Erik. But yes,’ he continued. ‘You have it mostly right. I absorb energy.’ He started walking towards Erik, who immediately braced himself, his whole body tense. ‘Part of this energy goes towards regeneration, yes, which allows me to retain some portion of my youth, as you have so very cleverly guessed. The rest, however,’ and by now he had nearly reached Erik, ‘the _rest_ of this energy I store within myself so that when it is necessary-’ here he reached out and before Erik knew what to expect he had placed the barest tip of his index finger against Erik’s chest. ‘I am able to release that energy in whatever manner I see fit. Like so.’ And suddenly the point of connection between the two seemed to blast outwards and Erik found himself being violently hurled back into a pile of metal piping, causing it to all crash down around him while he remained helpless, his chest far too wracked with pain for him to do anything more than raise his arms against the cascade.

Erik managed to blink through the haze of pain to see Shaw slowly approach him.

‘ _Focus_ , Erik,’ Shaw said cajolingly. ‘Focus _through_ the pain, just like I taught you. You remember your lessons, don’t you boy? I’d hate to think of all those sessions going to waste …’

Gritting his teeth and shoving the pain to the side, Erik tensed his muscles and struggled to his feet.

‘Good boy,’ Shaw said, pleased. ‘Now, let’s go again.’

Erik’s stomach clenched. Shaw wasn’t even taking this _seriously_ , he was acting as if it were some sort of _game_ , as if Erik was still a small boy throwing a tantrum. He could feel his anger threatening to overpower him and forced himself to not give into it. He himself had said it, that brute force would do nothing to Shaw. He would have to be clever about this.

Flexing his powers, he immediately pulled up two large hunks of metal and poised them in readiness while at the same time stealthily drawing up two other metal projectiles to fling at Shaw for when he was busy dealing with the other two. Gritting his teeth, he tensed before flinging the projectiles towards Shaw.

His forethought was rewarded when Shaw, distracted by the first two metal shots, only narrowly managed to avoid the third and was unable to escape the last, which ploughed into him with the force of a battering ram. While it did no real damage to him, the metal boulder did manage to shove Shaw back, upsetting his balance and driving him off his feet. Erik felt a surge of triumph at that, his satisfaction only growing when he saw Shaw clamber to his feet with a scowl on his face.

‘Well,’ Shaw coughed, dusting himself off and trying to hide his irritation. ‘Looks like you scored a point there.’ He straightened up and raised an eyebrow. ‘Care to come a bit closer and try that again?’

Erik gritted his teeth. Tempted though he was, he knew that to approach Shaw would be folly.

Shaw saw that Erik had no intention of engaging him in close combat and snorted.

‘I don’t know whether to be proud or disappointed,’ he said, huffing out a laugh. ‘You have finally learnt to not go barrelling thoughtlessly into impossible situations. Congratulations, Erik, you have learned restraint. Although the lesson seems to have struck home a bit too late, yes?’

Erik snarled at that but still didn’t move, his whole body alert and tense. He was waiting to see what Shaw would do next.

Shaw sighed.

‘My turn, is it?’ he asked dryly. ‘Very well.’

And with that he stalked over to the nearest pile of metal scrap and, seizing hold of what appeared to be an industrial-sized freezer, picked it up and lifted it as if it weighed nothing more than a loaf of bread.

‘Here,’ Shaw said, smiling. ‘Catch.’

And he flung the freezer towards Erik.

*****

Charles panted as he jogged across the grass, feeling more than a little panicked. There was no lighting about and the area around him was pitch black, the moon doing very little to cast light on the ground before him. Bracing his hands on his knees, he took a deep breath before straightening up and bringing his fingers to his temple. He had been scanning around for Erik’s mind since the moment he had started running after him but he hadn’t had any luck. Erik was too good at shielding his mind, it seemed, and Charles cursed him for it. 

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Things were going wildly wrong. He and Erik weren’t supposed to be here – they were supposed to be on an aeroplane, travelling far away. Charles let out a shuddery breath and forced himself to calm down. It wouldn’t do to have his telepathy negatively affected by his panic. He needed to stay calm and focused. He needed to extend his reach and push past the-

There!

Charles’s head jerked up as a flash of pain echoed across his psyche, alarm flaring as he felt the residual tremors of hurt and anger inside his mind.

Gasping, Charles whirled around and gazed out at the darkness, suddenly connected again, suddenly aware of exactly where Erik was.

‘Erik!’ he whispered. Snatches of images came to him – a fence, a car, a helmet – and through it all, the pervading sense of metal, so much _metal_ …

‘Scrap yard,’ Charles breathed. ‘He’s at a scrap yard.’

And, without a moment’s more hesitation, he took off in the direction he had sensed Erik in, only one thought running through his head.

_Get to Erik._

*****

Erik grunted, catching the metal freezer with his powers, groaning with the effort that it took. Gritting his teeth, he shoved it back at Shaw, who merely laughed and batted it away.

‘Come now, Erik,’ Shaw chided. ‘Surely you can do better than that?’

Erik glared at him, full of hate and anger.

‘You’ll know the answer to that when I snap your neck in two,’ he snarled. Heaving a metal bar at Shaw, he suddenly charged forward and threw himself at him, crashing into Shaw and throwing him down. Logically, Erik knew that what he had done was foolish. Shaw hadn’t been the slightest bit harmed by a car careering into him; it was highly unlikely that Erik’s fists would make much of a difference. All he was doing was putting himself in harm’s way. And yet part of him did not care and was pleased to give into his reckless anger. Even if it didn’t harm Shaw, he found punching him repeatedly in the face _very_ satisfying.

That didn’t last for long, of course. Erik had barely managed to get two solid hits in when Shaw tensed his body and _pushed_ , and suddenly Erik found himself flung aside once more. He couldn’t help but let out a groan of pain as he crashed into the ground and this time it was a moment before he could bring himself to move. He feebly twitched his limbs and then carefully levered himself onto his side, sure that he had heard a rib or two crack under the impact.

Shaw was watching him, an indecipherable look on his face.

‘It doesn’t have to be like this, you know,’ he said conversationally. ‘Believe it or not, I don’t _want_ to cause you pain, Erik.’

That startled a harsh laugh out of Erik.

‘You could have fooled me,’ he wheezed, staring venomously up at Shaw, wishing he could hurt him with the sheer power of his hatred. ‘My entire childhood was nothing but pain. You ensured that, Shaw.’

‘Yes, that is true,’ Shaw admitted, not sounding in the least bit penitent. ‘But it was for your own _good_ , Erik. You wouldn’t have learned to control your powers otherwise. Believe me, my boy, if I could have taught in you in a gentler, kinder way then I _would_ have. Unfortunately, while others learn with the carrot, some can only learn with the stick. _You_ , Erik, could only learn what was necessary through pain.’

‘And my mother?’ Erik gasped out, glad for Shaw’s lack of reticence if only for the time it gave him to recuperate. ‘What did killing her bring?’

‘Oh my boy!’ Shaw’s eyes were wide. ‘Erik, don’t you see? That was the _best_ lesson I ever taught you! Before that you couldn’t so much as move a coin let alone anything else, however much we tortured you. But the moment your mother died-’ Shaw’s expression turned dreamy, as if he were reliving one of the best moments of his life. ‘Oh Erik, it was _magnificent_! It was more than I could have possibly hoped for! One can learn to resist physical pain, after all, but _emotional_ pain … Oh Erik. If you had a hundred mothers I would have killed them _all_ just in order to see you blossom like that again!’

Erik’s pain was forgotten.

With a cry of fury he tore himself up from the ground and once again hurled himself at Shaw, calling to the metal all around him for aid. Shaw laughed as the metal swarmed at him and he raised his hands to brush them away. 

But this time Erik was ready. Before the metal could hit Shaw he caused it to halt and, before Shaw could realise what he was doing, caused the metal to close all around him, forming a thick metal coffin around Shaw’s body.

He gasped when it was done and fell down to his knees, exhausted. There was now at least ten inches of solid steel and iron encasing Shaw from all sides – Erik had even pushed the metal beneath Shaw so as to enclose him properly. 

He took a moment to shut his eyes and calm his breathing. 

Shaw was trapped. He was locked inside a solid metal box from which there was no escape. There was also very little air. Erik couldn’t help but hope that Shaw’s slow, eventual suffocation would be painful. He could feel himself smiling grimly at the thought.

And then a loud _bang_ sounded, startling Erik onto his feet.

He looked over to the metal coffin and swallowed.

There, in the middle, was the impression of a large, powerful fist.

And as Erik watched, another appeared.

_Bang!_

Another fist impression, right beside the other.

_Bang!_

This one overlapped the other two, thinning the stretched metal even further.

_Bang!_

The metal pushed outwards, groaning at the pounding that it was taking. It wouldn’t be long before Shaw broke through.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Erik reached out with his hands and immediately began to pull more metal towards the coffin, layering another sheet over the front just as Shaw’s fist connected with the already-thinned casing.

He swallowed as the sound of Shaw’s laughter echoed out, even through a thick layer of steel. Gritting his teeth, Erik set to piling more and more metal over the coffin, encasing it over and over again, hoping that Shaw would just hurry up and _suffocate_ already. But each time he placed a new layer of metal over the side he could see the beginnings of a dent on the layer preceding it and he knew that Shaw wasn’t far behind. This was not the solid prison that Erik had believed it to be. If he paused for more than a minute, then Shaw would break his way through.

Worse still, Erik was growing tired.

Yet still he did not stop. He couldn’t. If he did – if he stopped, if he tired – then this would all have been for nothing. He _had_ Shaw now, he _had_ him and there was no way that he was letting him go, not now. He would keep Shaw in this prison until his own bones turned to dust if necessary, but nothing on earth could make him stop-

_Erik!_

*****

Charles almost didn’t see the hole in the fence at first. He had approached the fence of the scrap yard with hope rising in his chest and was so fixed upon it that the hole didn’t even register. When he did notice it, however, he recoiled slightly. Whatever had happened there had not been the work of Erik’s mutation. Instead of the wire being curled back or even pulled across, the edges of the wire were blackened and crisp, as if they had been burned or blasted away by something powerful. Charles felt slightly sickened when he realised that this powerful weapon was probably Shaw’s. Spurred on by this thought and his fear for Erik, Charles immediately screwed up his courage and pushed through the hole in the gate.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where Erik was. Not only did the sounds coming from the centre of the yard give his location away, but the sight of various metal objects hurtling through the air were also something of a major clue.

Charles didn’t so much as pause. Picking up speed, he raced over to where the commotion was coming from. 

And then came to an abrupt halt at the sight that met his eyes.

Erik was hurling metal towards what looked like an upright metal coffin that seemed to be in the process of being destroyed from the inside out. It took Charles a moment to realise what was happening and he paled upon the realisation that _there was someone inside the box_! He couldn’t sense him, but he knew without a doubt that the person inside was none other than Sebastian Shaw. And he knew, with equal certainty, that Erik meant to kill him.

And so Charles did the only thing that he could. Reaching out with his mind, he brushed against Erik’s and shouted.

_Erik!_

*****

Erik stumbled back, his eyes wide as he whipped his head around. For a moment he just stood there and stared, as if unable to understand what his eyes were seeing. Charles – Charles couldn’t be there. Erik had locked him away, Erik had _ran_ to leave him behind so that he would be _safe_ , so that he wouldn’t have to-

‘Charles,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘Charles – what are you doing here?’

Charles, who had been approaching, faltered for a moment. 

‘I-’ he started before stopping. ‘I was worried,’ he finally said, his voice soft. His eyes trailed over Erik before moving almost hesitantly over to the box.

That seemed to wake Erik up and he immediately flung himself back towards the coffin, in time to see Shaw’s fist bursting through the front metal plate.

‘Erik…’ Shaw’s voice sing-songed through the gap, causing Erik’s blood to turn cold. It was nothing at all like Charles’s impassioned use of his name. ‘Erik, you’re doing so well! Don’t stop now!’

Swallowing, Erik glanced at Charles one more time before turning his back on him. He couldn’t deal with any distractions, not now that he was so close to getting what he wanted.

‘Go away, Charles,’ he said, making his voice as even as possible, his eyes fixed on the metal box in front of him. ‘I don’t want you here.’

Charles, naturally, didn’t listen.

‘Erik,’ he said, his voice urgent. ‘Erik, listen to me – this isn’t the way!’

‘If you can think of a more efficient way to kill him then be my guest,’ Erik gritted out, a line of sweat running down his brow as he pushed more metal towards the centre of the scrap yard.

‘I didn’t mean that I – Erik, killing Shaw will not bring you _peace_!’

That made Erik turn his face towards him. His expression was almost sad.

‘I’m sorry, Charles,’ he said, arm still stretched out in front of him. ‘But peace was never an option.’ And he pushed the metal even tighter around the body encased inside, _squeezing_ as tightly as he possibly could.

Charles stood there, staring at him – the man he had grown to love in so short a space of time – with fear and agitation clear on his face. 

‘No,’ he whispered, almost to himself, his head shaking with slowly-growing conviction. ‘No, I can’t – I’m sorry Erik, but I can’t watch you do this.’ And then he was suddenly throwing himself at Erik, knocking him down, breaking Erik’s connection to the metal.

Erik howled as the connection broke, the loss of control hitting him even harder than the impact of both Charles and the hard ground upon his already bruised ribs. Snarling, he caught Charles up by the scruff of his neck and squeezed for a dangerous moment, before suddenly coming back to himself and shoving Charles away, enraged both by Charles as well as his own actions, knowing how close he had come to nearly snapping the other man’s neck. 

‘I said _stay away_ , Charles!’ he snarled, barely glancing over at where Charles was gasping and clutching at his throat. ‘This has nothing to do with you!’

_I can’t simply sit by and watch you kill someone, Erik,_ Charles’s voice echoed through his head, even though Charles himself was still gasping and panting on the ground next to him. _I know what Shaw has done – I know how much this means to you, but there are other ways!_

‘No!’ Erik’s voice was vehement. ‘No, Charles, there _isn’t_. You may have _seen_ what Shaw has done but you still know _nothing_. You still don’t _understand_. And I have neither the time nor the inclination to convince you otherwise, so _leave us_!’

_But Erik –_ and Charles was still trying to stop him, still trying to persuade him – _Erik, this is **madness**! You can’t simply **kill** a man – whoever he may be! Two wrongs cannot make a right - the **principle** remains the –_

‘ _Your_ principles!’ Erik roared, more agitated than he would have believed possible. ‘ _Your_ morals! Which you are trying to _force_ on me! Who are _you_ to say what is right? Who are you to say that you know better?’

Charles, looking stricken, for once had nothing to say. 

Erik gritted his teeth together and forced himself to calm down. 

‘No, Charles,’ he said quietly. ‘I have far too much blood on my hands already for your words to have any impact on me. It’s too late. I have come too far and many have died to bring me to where I am today. This is as much for them as it is for me. And believe me,’ he smiled grimly, ‘the world is better off without Sebastian Shaw.’

‘Oh Erik, is that any way to talk about your dear, devoted friend?’ came a voice behind him and Erik immediately leapt to his feet, Charles immediately forgotten as he settled into a crouch, arms raised up before him. His eyes narrowed as he saw Shaw step out of the ruined metal carcass that curled about him, dusting his suit jacket off as he climbed out, as if he had just walked in out of the rain. 

‘Well,’ Shaw said, once he was completely clear of the metal shell, ‘that was fun. Let’s try something else now, shall we?’

Erik tensed and reached out with his powers before another voice halted him, this time from Charles.

‘Erik,’ he gasped, still on the floor. ‘Erik, it doesn’t need to be this way!’

Erik opened his mouth to reply but before he could, he was interrupted by Shaw.

‘Erik!’ Shaw exclaimed, sounding delighted. He cocked his head and greedily ran his eyes over Charles, making Erik’s insides squirm in fear and anger. ‘Erik, who is _this_? Is this one of your _friends_?’

Erik growled threateningly, his eyes flashing as he moved to shield Charles from Shaw’s gaze, even as Charles brought his fingertips to his temple, frowning in concentration. Shaw saw him do so and laughed in delight.

‘Sorry,’ he said, smiling benevolently at Charles and reaching out to rap his knuckles against his helmet. ‘Telepath-proof. But aren’t you just a _precious_ little thing?’

Charles’s frown changed into a scowl. He clearly did not appreciate being treated like some sort of performing puppy-dog.

_Now do you blame me for wanting to kill him?_ Erik couldn’t help thinking, though he managed to stop himself from projecting the thought to Charles. He much preferred for Charles’s ire to be directed away from him, in the proper direction; that is to say, towards Shaw.

Unfortunately, it took a great deal more than petty annoyance to put Charles off. 

‘Listen to me,’ he said earnestly. ‘Both of you. This isn’t the way! Can’t you see that nothing good will come of this?’

Erik grimaced but said nothing. Shaw, on the other hand, cocked his head at Charles, curious.

‘And what would _you_ suggest?’ he asked interestedly, raising an eyebrow. ‘That we sit down as gentlemen and discuss this civilly?’

Charles, looking distinctly uneasy, paused for a minute before swallowing and, bravely sticking to his guns, jerked his head in a nod.

Shaw stared at him.

Then, all of a sudden, he let out a great bark of laughter.

‘Erik!’ he laughed happily, clapping his hands together. ‘Erik! Where on earth did you _find_ this delightful creature? And more importantly – where can I get one of my own?’

Charles stared at Shaw, nonplussed, but Erik’s hackles had risen and the growl he let out was more animalistic than human.

‘Enough!’ he said sharply, causing Shaw’s attention to fall back on him. ‘Enough distractions, Shaw. We finish this. Now.’

Shaw sighed and gave a careless shrug.

‘As you wish,’ he said evenly. Then he glanced at Charles. ‘Stick around,’ he said genially. ‘I’d like to have a chat, after.’

_Not if I can help it,_ Erik thought grimly, tensing his muscles.

Shaw twisted his neck from side to side, working out the kinks in his neck. When he finally finished, he turned his sharp, complacent gaze on Erik.

‘Very well then,’ he said, smiling. ‘Play time is over. Let us finish this, once and for all.’

And then he attacked.

*****

Charles watched the battle in front of him, mesmerised by the display even as his insides clenched with fear. He had never seen anything like the scene in front of him, not even in the movie theatres that he loved to frequent. But the scene before him now was much deadlier and more intense than anything that had been shown on the silver screen.

Watching them, seeing the ferocity with which they both fought, Charles could not help but cringe at his own naivety, at the _complacency_ , that had made him think that he could do anything to stop what was happening here. Thinking on it, he realised that even before Erik had received the tip about the hotel, when he had promised Charles that he was ending this for good and letting Shaw go – even then it could never have worked. Erik _needed_ this, he saw that now. He understood it in a way that he had not before, even when he had been inside Erik’s mind. How Erik must have despised him for trying to intervene, he thought bitterly.

He knew, deep within the very fibre of his being, that one of the two men before him would die tonight.

He could only pray that that man would not be Erik.

It wasn’t that Charles wasn’t sticking by his own principles. It was merely that he was finally beginning to realise that his principles were not for everyone. Erik had been right – Charles had been trying to force his own morality on him, under the impression, as always, that he was the one that knew best, that it was up to him to enlighten others on things that he had no business interfering with. But who knew better than Erik what it was that Sebastian Shaw deserved? He’d been the one to live it, to experience it, to feel every single painful second of their time together. He’d lived it and he had come through the other side stronger, tougher and more determined, with a mind brighter than any other that Charles had ever seen. He couldn’t say that he wouldn’t have come out infinitely more damaged himself if it had been he in Shaw’s clutches, and not Erik.

Swallowing bitterly at his own foolishness in coming here without thought or plan, Charles turned his full attention back to the men in front of him. Both men were close, little more than arm’s length away from each other, Erik hovering just out of Shaw’s reach even while pummelling Shaw with iron fists, trying once again to drive him into the steel trap waiting just behind him.

But even as Charles watched, Erik seemed to stumble over something in the loose rock of the floor of the scrap yard and, for the slightest moment, he faltered.

That was enough. Quick as a flash, Shaw darted forward and, placing his palm flat against Erik’s stomach, pushed a bolt of power out at him. There was a blast and suddenly Erik was hurtling through the air, crashing painfully into a mountain of metal sheeting. Charles let out a shout of fear and before he knew it, was on his feet and running towards Erik, fear making the blood thunder loudly in his ears. Erik had been severely injured even before Shaw’s attack; he dreaded to think of the damage done by Shaw’s blow this time. 

‘Erik!’ he said urgently, clambering over the clumps of metal around him until he was at Erik’s feet. He quickly sank down to Erik’s side and pressed his fingers against his pulse. ‘ _Erik!_ ’

There was a groan and then Erik turned his head, and Charles was alarmed to see the hollow expression in hiss eyes. To make matters worse, there was a jagged cut across Erik’s hairline that was bleeding profusely and it made Charles shudder to consider what might have happened if that cut was any deeper.

‘Charles,’ Erik let out a groan. ‘Charles – you have to go.’

Charles’s mouth tightened and he reached out and squeezed Erik’s hand.

‘I’m not leaving you,’ he said determinedly, causing Erik to groan again, this time out of despair for Charles’s stubbornness.

‘Charles -’ he winced with the effort it cost him to talk and so switched into speaking with his mind. _Charles, you are useless here. Shaw has the helmet. There is nothing you can do. You need to **leave**._

_Never,_ Charles said immediately, gripping Erik’s hand all the tighter. He gave him a faint smile. _I am afraid that you are stuck with me till the bitter end, my friend._

Erik tried to glare at him but winced as the cut on his brow sent a throb of pain though him.

_This is folly, Charles,_ he tried again. _Save yourself. Get as far away from here as possible. Shaw knows about you now. He will come after you, I know it. And with his helmet you will be all but defenceless – I won’t be there to protect you._

_I’m not completely helpless, you know,_ Charles said wryly, an undercurrent of fondness threading through his words. _And you, my friend, are giving up far too easily for a man who spent his whole life waiting for this moment._

Erik let out a ghastly smile, his eyes slightly wild and his mouth stained with blood.

_I don’t need to tell you that this encounter always went slightly differently whenever I imagined it,_ he laughed humourlessly. _Besides, the only way to stop Shaw is by killing him. I thought you wouldn’t be too welcoming of that._

Charles hesitated.

_I’m not,_ he said at last. He paused. _But in the end, when it comes down to it, if I had to choose between the two of you … well. There is no contest, Erik._

Erik swallowed and felt something tug at his chest that had nothing to do with his pulverised ribs.

_Right,_ he said weakly. With an effort, he pulled himself up, groaning as his entire body protested at the movement. _So – now what?_

Charles returned his gaze levelly.

_Now,_ he said coolly. _You get rid of Shaw’s helmet._

**...**

Erik blinked and he stared at Charles. Then, slowly, his mouth lifted up in a feral grin. Without a word, he nodded. 

They both pulled themselves up, and not a moment too soon – for Shaw finally seemed to have got tired of waiting for them to pull themselves together and was now heading towards them with an almost insultingly bored expression.

‘Sympathetic as I am to the plight of young lovers …’ Shaw said with a wistful sigh. ‘I really must insist that we get back to the matter at hand. Business before pleasure, hmm?’

‘Fine by me,’ Erik muttered, before suddenly flexing his powers and causing a vine-like metal tentacle to burst out of the scrapheap behind Shaw. It had wound around Shaw’s body before he had so much as realised what had happened. He blinked for a moment before looking down and sighing.

‘Not that I’m not pleased with the control and stamina you now possess,’ Shaw said. ‘But I really think that you ought to come up with a new plan now, don’t you?’

Erik allowed himself to crack the ghost of a smile.

‘Oh don’t worry,’ he said smoothly. ‘We have.’

And then, before Shaw could react, yet another metal vine split off from the other and, quick as a flash, seized hold of the helmet on Shaw’s head and _pulled_.

To Charles it felt like the floodgates had been opened and for a fraction of a second he was almost overwhelmed by what he saw – the age, the many life-times, the deeds, the _malice_ that was within Shaw. But then the moment passed and Charles was master of himself once more and he waited not a second longer. The helmet had barely left Shaw’s head before he had mastery of it, his own mind wrapped fiercely around Shaw’s in a death-grip, freezing all but Shaw’s most basic functions.

Erik straightened, his arms lowering. He regarded the scene before him coolly, calmly – at least, so he appeared on the outside. Shaw’s eyes were wide, the only part of him that could move, and they flicked from Charles to Erik, where they remained. Erik smiled grimly. It seemed that Shaw had at last learned to view Erik as a threat. 

‘It’s a shame,’ Erik said evenly, slowly walking up to Shaw so that he stood less than an arm’s length away from where he was frozen. ‘Because despite it all, I think we could have agreed on some things; we could have worked.’ He ran his eyes thoughtfully over Shaw’s frame and cocked his head to the side. ‘Unfortunately,’ he murmured, ‘you killed my mother …’

Shaw’s eyes bulged at that and despite the fact that he couldn’t talk, Erik knew perfectly well what Shaw wanted to say. 

‘Well that’s all in the past now,’ he said, taking a step backwards and turning around with a sigh. Then he paused. ‘Well – it will be. In a moment.’ And when he turned back around there was a single silver coin floating in front of him, spinning and rotating in mid-air, raised until it was within Shaw’s line of sight.

Erik was watching Shaw’s expression and he saw the moment that Shaw recognised the coin for what it was. He gave a humourless smile.

‘I’ve carried this for a long time,’ he said softly. ‘It’s time now, I think, to let it go.’

And with that he pushed forward, sending the coin spinning through the air, pushing it, pushing it _hard_ , putting every last particle of hate and loathing into it as he did so. He gritted his teeth as the metal of the coin met the skin of Shaw’s forehead, feeling each groove of the coin’s edge burrow inwards. Erik’s eyes dipped momentarily so that they met Shaw’s, and for a moment he almost lost his concentration. For there, in Shaw’s eyes, instead of fear or pain or hatred as Erik had expected to see, there was a wild, fierce joy and pride, an emotion so strong that Erik was almost bowled over by it, sickened and confused in the same breath but unable to do anything about it.

And still he pushed.

It was like the world had stilled around him; it had all narrowed down to nothing but the coin and the man before him and the feelings of vicious satisfaction that roared within, beneath the confusion that churned inside him. If he concentrated hard enough, he even felt as if he could hear a pained, fearful scream inside his head. The thought caused his mouth to stretch up in a wild, bloody grin, even though the expression was more of a pained grimace than anything remotely joyful.

‘Goodbye Shaw,’ he whispered, watching with hungry eyes as the coin pushed through Shaw’s head and out the other side, as the light in Shaw’s eyes grew dim and then flickered out. ‘Goodbye.’

And then Shaw collapsed and all at once Erik was free. 

He was free. For the first time in his life he could finally be at peace.

He blinked as he realised that his eyes were wet and he brought his hand up to his face, amazed at the tears that brushed his fingertips. His hands shaking, he took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped back from the body in front of him.

‘Charles,’ he said hoarsely, his mouth turning up at the edges in a pained, disbelieving smile. ‘Charles, we did it! We got him! It’s over, it’s finally ov-’ He froze, mid-turn, at the sight that met his eyes. 

Charles was lying crumpled on the floor, his eyes rolled back in his head, his body horrifically still.

‘No,’ Erik gasped. He immediately pushed forward and fell down to his knees beside him, his own injuries completely forgotten. ‘No! Charles!’ His hands fluttered along the edges of Charles’s body, not knowing what to do or where to touch. How had this happened? How had Charles been hurt? How had he not seen this? 

Swallowing, Erik calmed down as best he could and then forced himself to conduct a quick examination of Charles’s body. Brief as it was, he soon came to the conclusion that, apart from a few scrapes and bruises, Charles had suffered no major injury. He was alive and his breathing was relatively steady, as was his pulse – the first things that Erik had checked, naturally – but there was something definitely wrong. Slowly, Erik’s gaze slid up Charles’s body, over his frail neck and onto his head. There. That was it. That _had_ to be it. 

Charles’s collapse was due to some problem with his telepathy.

Trying to force away the dizziness that was steadily catching up to him, Erik gritted his teeth, trying to recall anything that might give him a clue as to what had happened to Charles.

When Charles had agreed to help him against Shaw there had been nothing wrong with him. Erik had then battled Shaw and seized hold of his helmet, allowing Charles to take hold of Shaw’s mind and clutch him there tightly, surrounding him with his mind and holding him firmly in place even while Erik sent a coin through Shaw’s brain and ripped his brains apart -

Erik grew cold as he suddenly realised what had happened. What _he_ had made happen.

He had killed Shaw while Charles was still in his mind. 

Erik shut his eyes, thoughts full of sudden recrimination and self-loathing. He had killed a man – ended his brain function – while a telepath – _his_ telepath – was still in the dying man’s head. Erik couldn’t even begin to guess at the repercussions that Charles was now facing. Was he trapped inside his own head? Was he trapped with _Shaw_? Was Charles now brain-dead? Was he in pain? Had he _known_ what would happen?

Erik let out a guttural curse and pulled Charles’s head onto his lap.

‘Charles,’ he said as firmly as he could. ‘Charles, wake up. It’s all over now. Shaw is gone. You have to get up now, Charles.’

No response.

‘Charles!’ Erik said harshly, patting Charles’s cheek sharply with his hand. Charles’s head lolled away, his muscles free of all tension.

Gritting his teeth, Erik grasped Charles’s shoulders and shook him hard, despite not knowing whether it was the best idea, despite the fact that shaking him made Erik’s own head throb painfully.

_Charles, enough!_ he mentally snarled. _You’ve made your point, you’re a better friend – a better **man** than I am. Now wake up, damn you! Wake **up**!_

Still no response. 

Erik was growing desperate now. Worse still, his injuries and his exhaustion were finally catching up to him and he found himself slowly but surely slumping, gradually beginning to succumb to his body’s needs.

Just as he was blinking blearily, he felt something against his thigh. At first he thought that it was Charles finally waking up, and this thought sent a burst of adrenaline through his system. A second later, however, he realised that it wasn’t Charles but the vibrations of his phone, which, against all odds, had survived the battering he had received at the hands of Shaw.

Hands shaking, he slowly pulled the phone out of his pocket and brought it straight to his ear, too tired to even check who the caller was.

‘Hello?’ he grunted out.

‘Erik?’

It took Erik a moment to place the voice.

‘Remy?’

There was a great sigh of relief from the other end of the phone.

‘ _Mon dieu_ , Erik, where the hell are you?’

Erik blinked at that. 

‘I don’t know,’ he said wearily. ‘Some scrap yard near the hotel.’

‘Of course you are,’ Remy sounded part exasperated and part resigned. ‘I’d almost hoped … but of course that’s where you would be.’

‘Remy,’ Erik’s voice came out hoarse and the effort of subduing a rising cough made his back tremble. ‘Remy, I did it. I got him, Remy. I finally got the bastard.’

There was silence. Then:

‘No,’ there was a disbelieving whisper. ‘I don’t believe it.’ Then, ‘My _god_ , Erik. It’s over. It’s finally, _finally_ over.’

Erik felt a smile pull at his lips, despite everything.

‘Yes,’ he replied, his sight going dim at the edges. ‘It’s done,’ he said, feeling himself leaning back, further and further. ‘It’s finally done …’

‘Erik?’ he vaguely heard Remy say from far, far away. ‘ _Mon cher?_ Erik, are you alright? _Merde!_ Erik, _say_ something! Erik-’

The phone clattered against the rocky ground but Erik was already unconscious.

*****


	9. Chapter 9

Erik woke two days later to find himself in what appeared to be a hospital room. He blinked, confused for a minute, before his memory caught up to him. For the barest moment he was filled with euphoria at the thought of Shaw’s demise at his hands, but then the memory of Charles’s pale, unresponsive features crashed down on him. Expression suddenly taut and full of worry, he made a move to pull himself out of bed when he finally caught sight of the person sitting close to him.

‘ _Bonjour_ , Erik,’ Remy said calmly, putting down the newspaper he had been reading. ‘I am glad you are finally awake.’

Erik felt himself almost unconsciously relax, a small smile crossing his face despite himself.

‘Hello, Gambit,’ he said evenly. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘ _Naturallement,_ ’ Remy shrugged easily. ‘I thought it would be good for you, to wake up to my handsome face. You are welcome, of course.’

Erik grunted, pushing himself forward so that he was sat up properly. His efforts were made difficult by the fact that his arm was in a sling and his ribs, though bandaged and tended to, still hurt even through the numbness of the medication that had been administered to him.

‘Where are we, Remy?’ he asked, when he was finally in position.

‘Mexico,’ Remy replied immediately. ‘Somewhere safe.’

Erik nodded, taking Remy’s word for it. He swallowed.

‘And-’ he paused, hesitant. ‘And – Charles?’

Remy regarded him narrowly, his expression not giving anything away, well aware that Erik’s fists were beginning to clench with each second’s delay.

‘He is here also,’ he said at last. ‘I thought it wise to bring him along when I found you.’

There was an opening there for Erik to ask more about just how Remy had found him, but for once he didn’t care about the details. He wanted to know about Charles.

‘How is he?’ he asked urgently, ignoring his body’s warning as he leaned towards Remy, tense. ‘Is he – is he okay?’

Remy sent him another measuring glance.

‘ _Oui,_ ’ he said quietly, and Erik sank back into the bed, relieved, before Remy continued. ‘He is okay. Physically, at least, he is fine.’

That, of course, immediately caused Erik to tense up again.

‘What do you mean?’ he demanded, his eyes narrowed and his heart beating fast. ‘Is he - Has he not-’

‘When I found the two of you,’ Remy said loudly, talking over Erik, ‘you were both unconscious. I assumed that the both of you were suffering from wounded exhaustion and had you both brought here so that you could recover.’ He paused. When he next spoke, his words were careful. ‘It has been three days, _mon cher_. You awoke shortly after we found you, and had to be sedated. Since then you have been medicated and have drifted in and out of consciousness, in between operations. You had several broken ribs, a fractured skull, a broken arm, a fractured leg and several other wounds and contusions of varying severity. But you pulled through,’ he said, giving Erik a strangely fond smile. ‘You always do, _n’est-ce pas_?’

But Erik wasn’t to be put off.

‘And Charles?’ he asked warily.

Remy sighed and ran a hand through his thick red hair. 

‘He never woke up,’ he said bluntly, staring straight into Erik’s eyes. ‘The doctors don’t know what is wrong with him or how to fix it. They are not even sure if he will ever recover.’

Erik closed his eyes and turned away. All his self-recriminations from before returned tenfold and he cursed himself for allowing Charles to hurt himself in that way, despite not having known what would happen.

He cursed himself even more when he found that he wasn’t at all certain whether he would have given up his chance to kill Shaw in order to have stopped Charles even if he _had_ known.

‘So he’s unconscious,’ he said after a moment, forcing himself to turn back to Remy who was regarding him with something akin to pity.

‘ _Oui,_ ’ Remy said simply.

‘And he’s – you’ve heard _nothing_?’ Erik couldn’t help asking.

Remy frowned slightly.

‘I do not understand,’ he said after a moment. ‘Heard what?’

Erik sighed. 

‘He’s a telepath, Remy,’ he said quietly. ‘Charles is – was – I don’t know – a telepath.’ And then he told Remy the story of what had happened and how he had managed to defeat Shaw.

Remy sucked in a breath as Erik spoke, but his expression was thoughtful by the time the story ended.

‘I see,’ he said at last. ‘Well … it is understandable, I suppose. And maybe, it is a good thing.’

Erik’s head shot up and he glared at Remy.

‘Oh?’ he asked, his tone dangerous.

Remy seemed to cotton onto this, as he quickly shook his head.

‘Not the way you think, _mon ami_. I am merely saying that such a retreat into one’s head is … perhaps the expected response after such an experience.’

Erik did not seem entirely convinced.

‘And why did you say it was good?’ he persisted, eyeing Remy suspiciously.

Remy shrugged.

‘Because perhaps it is under your Charles’s control,’ he said easily, causing Erik to start and look at Remy with wide eyes.

‘You – you mean you think that his coma is … _voluntary_?’ he demanded.

Remy shrugged.

‘I couldn’t say,’ he said apologetically. ‘But there is the chance, _non_? That he used it as some sort of defence mechanism?’

‘I suppose …’ Erik said slowly.

‘And if so, it means that he can get himself out of it, _oui_?’

‘Yes, but,’ Erik frowned, ‘if he can then why _doesn’t_ he?’

Remy blinked before raising his shoulders in a very Gallic shrug.

‘I couldn’t say, _mon cher_ ,’ he said honestly. ‘Maybe he doesn’t know how. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s safe. Maybe-’ he hesitated. ‘Maybe he doesn’t _want_ to.’

Erik had to force himself not to react negatively to that last suggestion. For all he knew, it could be the truth.

‘In the end,’ Remy continued with a sad shake of the head, ‘only your Charles can say.’

And that, Erik thought grimly to himself, was precisely the problem.

*****

Erik was made to stay in the hospital for two more weeks. Normally this would have provoked a reaction full of great anger and impatience from him but this time things were different. Shaw was dead and gone, for one, meaning that Erik had nothing else to do with his time. Secondly, Charles was at the hospital. The very least that Erik could do was keep him company.

Charles had not woken up in the time since Erik had himself blinked out of his anaesthesia-induced coma. Since his awakening, Erik had spent a great deal of time with his eyes screwed shut in concentration, trying his hardest to broadcast his thoughts to Charles in hopes that he would receive them. Disappointingly, however, his thoughts were never answered.

Erik also spent much of his day at Charles’s bedside. At first, the nurses would not allow him to see Charles but Erik had stubbornly demanded his room number and then, in the dead of night, had used his powers to move his entire gurney out of his room, down the corridor, up the elevator, and into Charles’s room. The nurse who had found him there the next morning hadn’t believed her eyes, and indeed, the entire staff was still baffled as to how Erik had managed it. Remy had come and smoothed things over, however, and soon Erik and Charles were sharing a private room together, not that Charles could really appreciate it. He couldn’t really appreciate much of anything, the way he was now.

Erik spent much of his day talking to Charles about his past and what little he could remember of the happier days of his childhood. He skipped over much of his time with Shaw – not only had he already revealed all of that to Charles before, but he also couldn’t help but think that those stories would be singularly inappropriate right about then. And then after, when he ran out of pleasant childhood memories, he began to read to Charles, using one of the books that Remy had filched from the hospital bookshop. Erik felt very silly a lot of the time, but just a single look at Charles’s pale, expressionless face was usually enough to suppress that feeling. He owed Charles a lot; the least he could do was sit there and read to him.

At the end of the two weeks, however, Erik was beginning to once again feel the mild stirrings of panic. He would be discharged soon, and then not only would he no longer be near Charles, but he would also have to figure out what to do with himself now that his hunt for Shaw was finally over. 

One of the worst things about being discharged, however, would be the fact that he would have to comply with normal visiting hours, and Erik wasn’t prepared for that. Visiting hours meant restrictions. That meant no more sitting with Charles from morning to night; no more reading to him until his voice went sore … no more watching his beautiful face whenever the urge so took him.

‘Charles,’ he would beg, clutching at his hand. ‘Charles, please!’

But still Charles would remain unmoving, for all purposes well and truly dead to the world.

Erik wouldn’t dare to say it aloud, but he was slowly losing hope.

And then, on the last day of Erik’s stay at the hospital, Erik had a dream.

Dreaming in itself was unusual to Erik – he seldom managed to fall into a deep enough sleep for that, nor did he sleep for very long; six hours a night was usually more than enough for him. And yet dreams were not so rare that he immediately suspected something out of the ordinary, which, in the end, it turned out to be.

In his dream, Erik was back at Westchester. He was wandering around Charles’s enormous house, looking for something – for someone. He searched the bedrooms and the kitchen and the dining room, but to no avail. Eventually, though, he found himself in the study. There was a figure sat in the high-backed armchair by the fire and, as Erik stepped in, the person looked up.

It was Charles.

‘Hello, my friend,’ he said warmly. ‘It is good to see you again.’

Erik stared at him for a moment, before darting forward.

‘Charles!’ he gasped out, his hands fluttering over Charles’s form as if afraid to touch him. ‘You’re here!’

Charles gave him a small, gentle smile.

‘Yes, it appears so, doesn’t it?’ he said quietly.

‘I was afraid-’ Erik started and then stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

‘I know,’ Charles smiled sadly. ‘You were afraid that I was gone.’

Erik swallowed at that and, without conscious thought, fell to his knees before Charles.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered, bending his head low. ‘I’m so sorry I put you in that position, Charles. I never meant for you to get hurt and then you-’

But Charles was shaking his head, an almost painfully fond expression on his face.

‘Oh, Erik,’ he said sadly. ‘There’s nothing for you to feel sorry about. What I did, I did of my own volition. You tried your best to keep me away – to keep me safe. I know that, and I am deeply grateful for it. There is really no need for you to apologise.’

Erik nodded but he still couldn’t bring himself to look up.

Charles sighed and reached out so that he was grasping Erik’s hands in both of his own. They rested like that for a moment, the both of them silent and revelling in the presence of the other.

Finally, Erik looked up. He glanced around at the room before looking back to Charles with a thoughtful expression.

‘You’re in my dream,’ he said carefully.

Charles nodded.

‘Yes, I am. Although arguably one could say that it is _our_ dream, since we are both present here.’

Erik smiled at that, and the pressure around his hands increased for a moment as Charles squeezed them.

‘I didn’t know you could so this,’ Erik murmured. ‘That your powers allowed you this … It is incredible. I didn’t know.’

Charles gave a dry laugh at that.

‘Oh my friend,’ he said, his voice sounding strangely wistful. ‘We’ve known each other for such a short time. There is still very much that we don’t know about each other.’

‘But we will,’ Erik said eagerly, clutching at Charles’s hands. ‘We have all the time in the world now, just the two of us. Together.’

His heart sank, however, at the expression on Charles’s face.

‘Charles …’ he said warningly as the other man bit his lip. ‘Spit it out.’

Charles grimaced and squirmed in his seat.

‘Very well,’ he said reluctantly. ‘But – I want you to keep calm.’

That, of course, had the complete opposite effect.

‘What do you mean, _keep calm_?’ Erik hissed, his fingers now digging into Charles’s skin, causing him to wince. ‘What’s wrong?’

Charles sighed. 

‘I mean,’ he said patiently, gently extracting his hands from Erik’s, only to have Erik catch them again, ‘that … well – I might not know how to come back.’

Erik stared at him.

‘What?’ he asked flatly.

Charles winced.

‘Well you see-’

‘How can you _not know_ how to get back?’ Erik demanded, gritting his teeth. ‘You’re a _telepath_ , Charles – isn’t this something you should _know_?’

Charles’s expression shifted.

‘Yes,’ he said, with an airiness that barely masked the tightness of his jaw, ‘but I’ve never had anyone _die_ in my head before, have I?’

There was a pause. The room around them flickered as if in response to an internal shudder from Charles.

‘Charles,’ Erik said at last, grimacing. ‘I’m sorry. Of course you-’ He shook his head. ‘I mean to say – I spoke foolishly. It is merely that I – I worry. I worry about you. I don’t want … not when I have just found you.’

Charles’s expression softened.

‘I know,’ he said with a gentle smile. ‘And don’t worry, Erik. I will find my way out. I’m feeling a lot better, you know – it’s how I was finally able to contact you.’ Then he frowned. ‘How long have I been unconscious, by the way?’

Erik didn’t meet his eyes.

‘Erik?’ Charles asked anxiously, tightening his grip on Erik’s hands. Erik immediately lifted his gaze up again, squeezing Charles’s fingers reassuringly.

‘Almost three weeks,’ he said gently, smiling ruefully when Charles’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve been unconscious ever since that night with Shaw.’

‘Three weeks,’ Charles repeated, looking slightly dazed. ‘I didn’t even realise … I was lost, you see,’ Charles explained, staring earnestly into Erik’s eyes. ‘And time works somewhat differently inside your head.’

Erik nodded wordlessly, squeezing Charles’s hand again.

Charles licked his lips, his eyes wide and anxious.

‘If I may ask,’ he began hesitantly. ‘What happened? Where are we? I presume that the two of us are together, considering it didn’t seem all that difficult to locate you …’ He trailed off.

‘We’re in a hospital,’ Erik explained quickly. ‘In Mexico.’

‘Mexico?’ Charles blinked, startled. ‘How on earth did we end up in Mexico?’

The corner of Erik’s mouth rose.

‘I have a friend,’ he said with a small smile. ‘Remy – my contact. He realised something was wrong when he couldn’t get in touch with me and he began to worry. He managed to triangulate our location and then got a helicopter over to us within a few hours. He brought us here to recover.’

Charles let out a slightly dazed laugh.

‘Remind me to thank him,’ he said. He looked out at Erik from under his eyelashes. ‘He must be a very good friend of yours, to do such a thing.’

Erik blinked before shrugging, looking almost embarrassed.

‘I suppose he must,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I wouldn’t have thought so before, but … yes. I suppose he must be. You know, the first time I met him was in a bar?’

Charles raised a polite eyebrow.

‘Yeah,’ Erik said reminiscently. ‘I punched him in the face.’

Charles let out a loud burst of laughter at that.

‘What on earth for?’ he asked wonderingly.

Erik’s forehead crinkled in concentration.

‘As far as I can remember,’ he said slowly, ‘I think it was because he was hitting on me.’

Charles snickered at that before raising an inquisitive eyebrow that somehow managed to convey some sort of lewd suggestion.

Erik snorted.

‘What? Me and Remy?’ he shook his head. ‘Not in a million years. Apart from the fact that our relationship is a professional rather than personal one, the two of us would probably kill each other before an hour was up. Besides,’ he added as an after thought, ‘Remy is in a committed love-hate relationship with a wonderful young woman named Anna-Marie, and I-’ he paused.

‘Yes?’ Charles asked innocently. ‘And you?’

‘And _I_ ,’ Erik continued, his voice growing lower and changing into a seductive growl, ‘well … I suppose I have you.’

Charles smacked Erik on the head.

‘Charming,’ he huffed, though the corner of his mouth was turned up even as he tried to hide his smile. ‘All the romance has gone already, hasn’t it?’

Erik squeezed his knee.

‘Never,’ he declared. And as the smile spread on Charles’s face, he couldn’t resist leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss full of suppressed feeling onto Charles’s lips. Charles’s mouth opened in a gasp but he recovered quickly and kissed back just as fervently, his eyes fluttering shut even as his arms came to rest around Erik’s shoulders.

‘Erik’ he murmured, opening his mouth and swiping his tongue teasingly against Erik’s lower lip, causing Erik to groan and surge forwards until he was all but devouring Charles, both of his large, capable hands clutching Charles’s face possessively and drawing him close. Charles let out a groan at that and suddenly they were pressed together, Erik on top of Charles, and they were moving against one another, hands flying everywhere, desperate to touch more skin.

Erik pulled back before things got too heated, however, and both of them were left panting, clothes askew and hair sticking up in all directions, simply gazing each other with wide, glazed eyes.

‘This – this isn’t really happening, is it,’ Erik managed to say once he had finishing panting.

‘No,’ Charles shook his head and wiped the hair away from his forehead, where it was stuck in sweaty strands. ‘I’m afraid not. This is all in our dreams. In our heads.’

Erik nodded at that, but didn’t say anything.

They sat in silence for a minute more, trying to get their breathing under control.

‘We should probably wait,’ Erik said abruptly, not meeting Charles’s eyes. ‘Until you’re – I mean, until we are both awake.’

Charles gave him a rueful smile.

‘I suppose,’ he said, even though his eyes were fixed on Erik’s reddened lips.

Erik, despite his best efforts, felt his mouth start to curve up into a smile.

‘It’s not going to work if you keep looking at me like that, Charles,’ he murmured.

‘Hmm?’ Charles clearly didn’t seem to be listening, appearing nearly hypnotised by the way Erik’s lips moved.

Erik smirked. ‘Thinking happy thoughts, Charles?’ he teased.

Charles blinked.

‘God I want to kiss you,’ he breathed, apropos of nothing. 

Erik paused at that, before smiling a slow, dangerous smile.

‘So,’ he murmured, leaning towards Charles, ‘Kiss me.’

But Charles suddenly shook his head, pulling away slightly.

‘No, Erik,’ he said, looking up at him with a look of longing on his face. ‘What I mean is that I want to _really_ kiss you.’

Erik’s eyebrow rose upwards.

‘Again,’ he said slowly, teasingly. ‘So kiss me.’

But Charles was still shaking his head.

‘I don’t mean here,’ he said softly. ‘I mean _outside_. I want to kiss you _outside_.’

Erik froze, before slowly leaning back into his chair. He watched Charles appraisingly for a moment, his expression contemplative. When he next spoke, however, his tone was low and heated.

‘So,’ he said slowly, his eyes never moving from Charles’s, ‘Kiss me.’

Charles opened his mouth and shut it again, his expression suddenly unsure.

‘Come on, Charles,’ Erik said, gripping his hands and leaning forward eagerly. ‘You can do it. I know you can. If you want to _really_ kiss me half as much as I want to kiss you, then you will. But you’ve got to _want_ it.’

Charles turned to Erik at that.

‘I do,’ he said softly, reaching out a hand to gently cup Erik’s chin. ‘Oh Erik – you have no idea how much I want you.’

Something wild and hot clenched somewhere deep inside Erik’s gut and he swallowed.

‘Then come and get me,’ he whispered.

Charles held his eyes for a moment, and then smiled.

The room vanished.

One moment it was there, and then it was like all the light had been sucked out, leaving nothing behind but inky blackness. Erik blinked, startled, and then suddenly there was a great sense of fear rising in his chest and there was _nothing_ around him and he couldn’t _see_ , and – he reached out, trying to feel about him, for a table or a wall or a – a floor …

Erik’s stomach lurched as he realised that there was nothing beneath him, nothing to catch him, nothing which would stop his descent, and then he was falling – falling, falling, falling …

...

Erik sat up with a jerk, his eyes wild and his heart pounding. His breath was coming in sharp pants and for a moment he didn’t know where he was, the terror of the dream still following him into consciousness. He began to relax, however, when he realised that the dark around him wasn’t because of the dream, but because it was the middle of the night and he was in his bed in the hospital ward, having just woken. He closed his eyes briefly, and allowed his breathing to even out and his pulse to slow down, until he was calm once more.

And then his eyes shot open. 

Making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, Erik tore off the constraining, starch-white bed sheets and all but threw himself out of bed, not caring about the strain that he must have been putting on his injuries. He then immediately began to stride across the room, completely oblivious to the chill of the cold floor on his poor, bare feet.

With bated breath he approached the one other bed in the room, coming to rest by the head and pausing only to press the switch to the bed-side lamp before turning to face its occupant.

‘Charles,’ he whispered, head craning close, desperate to see even the smallest flicker of movement. ‘Charles, are you there?’

He waited for a moment, but there was no response. No grunt, no smile – not even the flicker of an eyelash.

‘Charles!’ Erik hissed, unable to keep his heart from sinking.

Still nothing.

Legs suddenly feeling weak, Erik took a step backwards. Bringing a palm up to cover his eyes, he reached out with his other hand and drew the visitor’s chair towards him, practically collapsing into it once it was at his side.

It hadn’t worked. Erik had tried and Charles had tried, but it hadn’t worked. Charles wasn’t coming back. This was it, this was the truth, and Erik would now have to deal with it.

He didn’t want to, though.

Removing his hand from his face, he turned his eyes once more on the calm, peaceful figure before him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, reaching out and brushing Charles’s cheek with a single finger. ‘Charles, I love you, and I am sorry.’

Just as he was pulling his finger away, the face in front of him twitched slightly, as if drawn towards the retreating finger. Before Erik could even question whether or not he had imagined the movement, the face twitched again and then the mouth opened, letting out a sigh.

Erik was frozen. He couldn’t move. His eyes were fixed in front of him, desperate to witness the slightest movement or gesture from Charles.

And then Charles sighed again.

‘Erik…’ he murmured.

Erik was immediately at his side, on his knees, his hands grasping the edge of the bed.

‘Charles,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘I – You need to open your eyes. I need to see your eyes,’ he all but begged, hands fisting the bed sheet.

There was a pause. For a moment nothing happened.

Then there was suddenly a sleepy, _All right, keep your hair on_ , inside Erik’s head, followed by a, _I’m coming_ , and then, _I’m here_ , and all Erik could do was sit there by Charles’s side, his eyes fixed upon his face.

Charles’s eyelashes seemed to flicker for a moment.

Then, with another breathy sigh, Charles opened his eyes.

He looked up at Erik, and smiled.

‘Hello,’ he whispered, and his voice, rough from weeks of disuse, was the most beautiful thing that Erik had ever heard.

‘Hello,’ Erik replied in a quiet voice.

‘I-’ and here Charles paused and licked his lips – and Erik hadn’t known how much he had missed that one familiar gesture right until that moment – ‘I think I would like to kiss you now.’

Erik swallowed.

‘I think I would like to be kissed,’ he returned softly, and even though he knew it was stupid and mushy and ridiculous, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Charles’s lips twitched up into a smile, as if he knew exactly what Erik was thinking. Which, being a telepath, he probably did.

‘Good,’ he murmured, whether in response to the thought or the words it was unclear, but then it really didn’t matter as Erik was leaning down, and their eyes were fluttering shut and their mouths were pressing together and suddenly they were kissing and kissing and kissing and nothing else mattered in the whole world except that Erik was there and Charles was there, and that they were both okay.

And, as the first rays of sunlight began to peep in through the cracks left by the curtains, Erik decided that everything was more than okay.

For the first time in his life, everything, at last, was perfect.

**The End.**


End file.
